The Adventures Of Rainbow Six
by The Spanish 1nquisition
Summary: Stories about the Rainbow Six operators while they're not on mission.(And sometimes when they are) There will be a loose story line and some plot. Updated whenever possible.
1. The Musical (1)

_Hello there everyone! I am the Author. This not my first story, as I lost the password and email to my previous account. But here I am with basically a mishmash of stories of the antics of the Rainbow Six Siege Operators when they're not on mission. I hope you enjoy! – The Author_

 _This chapter includes songs so if you want to "sing along" just google the song name and play it in the background or something._

 **The Musical**

"You're kidding me?" Sebastien, nicknamed Buck, replied to the news that Seamus just gave him.

"Wish I was mate, but this is Baker's idea" Seamus, nicknamed Sledge, replied.

"What was Baker's idea?" Alexandr, nicknamed Tachanka, asked walking over with a bottle of what smelled like vodka.

"A bloody singing competition!"

"Это немного…" Alexandr began in his native Russian before returning to English. "So, like what kind of competition?"

"Each operator can either go solo or be in as big of a team as they want. You can either make your own song, or you can lip sync another song." Sebastien explained.

"So, is there a prize?" Marius, nicknamed Jäger, inquired.

"I just came up with one, losers have to run across the training field while the winners can unload paintball guns and simulation rounds into them." Mike Baker, nicknamed Thatcher, said as he walked by. "And participating is mandatory!"

Everyone gathered around the table went silent for a few moments before Alexandr spoke up. "I'm going to go get the rest of my comrades and I will see you all when you are facing my LMG." He said downing his drink and walked off.

Five minutes later, word of the competition had spread and now all the operators were gathered on sofas in the center of the common room.

"OKAY EVERYONE ZIP IT!" Mike yelled to quiet the blabbering between the operators. "We will need some judges. So! Does anybody volunteer? BUT! They will also have to do the run with the losers."

Instantly the Bosak sisters' Elzvbieta and Zofia (nicknamed Ela and Zofia respectively) went up.

"Okay that settles it! Everyone has two days, so till Sunday to set up their teams and prepare!"

"You're going down old man!" Craig, nicknamed Blackbeard, yelled at Mike.

"Oh, you think so? I think you are going to be the one going down!" Tina, nicknamed Frost, yelled back at Craig.

"Yea, and you are too!" Jack, nicknamed Pulse, said backing up Craig.

Five minutes of yelling and taunting later, teams had basically been formed on nationality. With the Russian operators leaving together, while the French and German operators teamed with each other. The Asian operators had also teamed together, talking about which song they would lip sync. All the American operators had also banded together, mainly countering the British and Canadian team that had been formed. The Spanish and Brazilian operators just sat there looking at each other, planning on how they were going to dodge the gunfire.

Two days passed swiftly, and a makeshift outside stage had been made set up with seats for the operators not performing at the time had been set up on one side of the training field.

All the teams shuffled outside, glancing at the racks of weapons each team had selected to spray the losers with if they won. Everyone shivered at the thought of the Russians winning, with Alexandr's LMG set up, no doubt for him to spray down the losers as they attempted to make it across the field.

"All right then!" Mike yelled when he saw that everyone was there. "Russians, you're up first!"

The operators climbed the stairs onto the stage and got into their positions. Timur, called Tim by the other operators, and nicknamed Glaz, counted down before the Russians broke into song.

 **Insert Song – Kalinka**

(I recommend you listen to the song)

 _ **LYRICS:**_

 _ **Калинка, калинка, калинка моя!  
В саду ягода малинка, малинка моя!**_

 _ **Хэй! Калинка, калинка, калинка моя!  
В саду ягода малинка, малинка моя!**_

 _ **Хэй! Калинка, калинка, калинка моя!  
В саду ягода малинка, малинка моя!**_

 _ **Хэй! Калинка, калинка, калинка моя!  
В саду ягода малинка, малинка моя!**_

 _ **Ааааааааааааааааааах!  
Под сосную, под зеленою  
Спать положите вы меня,  
Ааааааааай!  
Ай люли, люли, ай, люли, люли,  
Спать положите вы меня**_

 _ **Припев**_

 _ **Ааааааааааааааааааах!  
Сосенушка ты зелёная  
Не шуми ты надо мной  
Ааааааааай!  
Ай люли, люли, ай, люли, люли,  
Не шуми ты надо мной**_

 _ **Припев**_

 _ **Аааааааааааааааааааааааах!  
Красавица, душа-девица,  
Полюби же ты меня,  
Ай, люли, люли, aй, люли, люли,  
Полюби же ты меня!**_

 _ **Припев**_

 _ **ХЭЙ!**_

Tim took the lead on the vocals, and the song got a standing ovation from the various staff that had taken a break to watch the operators compete.

"All right then…" Mike said, scared from how good that was. "The Asians are up next."

The Asian group got up on stage, bringing various instruments with them.

"Don't know bout you mate, but I'm shitting myself." James, nicknamed Smoke, whispered into Mike's ear as he sat back down.

The performing team who appeared to be led by Masaru, nicknamed Echo.

He counted down before they started, causing Craig to choke on the water he was drinking.

 **Insert Song - Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival**

 _ **Some folks are born made to wave the flag  
Ooh, they're red, white and blue  
And when the band plays "Hail to the chief"  
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord**_

 _ **It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son  
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no**_

 _ **Some folks are born silver spoon in hand  
Lord, don't they help themselves, oh  
But when the taxman comes to the door  
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes**_

 _ **It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no  
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no**_

 _ **Yeah, yeah  
Some folks inherit star spangled eyes  
Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord  
And when you ask them, "How much should we give?"  
Ooh, they only answer More! more! more! y'all**_

 _ **It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, son  
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, one**_

 _ **It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no no no  
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate son, no no no**_

Everyone slowly clapped at the performance, taken aback that they had chosen a song so closely related to the Vietnam War.

Mike again got on stage announcing the next operators that were performing. "The Franco-Germanic team is next."

This time Everyone got on stage, without instruments, the leader of the group appeared to be Elias, nicknamed Blitz.

 **Insert Song – Moskau by Dschinghis Khan**

 _ **Moskau  
Fremd und geheimnisvoll  
Türme aus rotem Gold  
Kalt wie das Eis  
Moskau  
Doch wer dich wirklich kennt  
Der weiß, ein Feuer brennt  
In dir so heiß**_

 _ **Kosaken hey hey hey hebt die Gläser hey  
Natascha ha ha ha du bist schön ah ha  
Towarisch hey hey hey auf das Leben hey  
Auf Dein Wohl Bruder hey Bruder ho**_

 _ **Moskau, Moskau  
Wirf die Gläser an die Wand  
Russland ist ein schönes Land  
Ho ho ho ho ho, hey  
Moskau, Moskau  
Deine Seele ist so groß  
Nachts da ist der Teufel los  
Ha ha ha ha ha, hey**_

 _ **Moskau, Moskau  
Liebe schmeckt wie Kaviar  
Mädchen sind zum küssen da  
Ho ho ho ho ho, hey  
Moskau, Moskau  
Komm wir tanzen auf dem Tisch  
Bis der Tisch zusammenbricht  
Ha ha ha ha ha**_

 _ **Moskau  
Tor zur Vergangenheit  
Spiegel der Zarenzeit  
Rot wie das Blut  
Moskau  
Wer deine Seele kennt  
Der weiß, die Liebe brennt  
Heiß wie die Glut**_

 _ **Kosaken hey hey hey hebt die Gläser hey  
Natascha ha ha ha du bist schön ah ha  
Towarisch hey hey hey auf die Liebe hey  
Auf Dein Wohl Mädchen hey Mädchen ho**_

 _ **Moskau, Moskau  
Wirf die Gläser an die Wand  
Russland ist ein schönes Land  
Ho ho ho ho ho, hey  
Moskau, Moskau  
Deine Seele ist so groß  
Nachts da ist der Teufel los  
Ha ha ha ha ha, hey**_

 _ **Moskau  
Lala lala lala la, lala lala lala la  
Ho ho ho ho ho, hey  
Moskau  
Lala lala lala la, lala lala lala la  
Ha ha ha ha ha**_

 _ **Oh, oh oh oh, oh, oh oh oh, oh, oh oh oh oh  
Moskau, Moskau**_

 _ **Moskau, Moskau  
Wodka trinkt man pur und kalt  
Das macht hundert Jahre alt  
ha ha ha ha ha, hey  
Moskau, Moskau  
Väterchen dein Glas ist leer  
Doch im Keller ist noch mehr  
Ha ha ha ha ha**_

 _ **Moskau, Moskau**_

 _ **Kosaken hey hey hey hebt die Gläser hey  
Natascha ha ha ha du bist schön ah ha  
Towarisch hey hey hey auf das Leben hey  
Auf Dein Wohl Bruder hey Bruder ho**_

 _ **Moskau, Moskau  
Wirf die Gläser an die Wand  
Russland ist ein schönes Land  
Ho ho ho ho ho, hey  
Moskau, Moskau  
Deine Seele ist so groß  
Nachts da ist der Teufel los  
Ha ha ha ha ha, hey**_

 _ **Moskau, Moskau  
Liebe schmeckt wie Kaviar  
Mädchen sind zum küssen da  
Ha ha ha ha ha  
Moskau, Moskau  
Komm wir tanzen auf dem Tisch  
Bis der Tisch zusammenbricht  
Ha ha ha ha ha, hey**_

Once Again Mike Got Up and addressed the crowd. "Guess we all just got Blitzkreiged!" He joked, earning a distasteful look from every single European operator. "Americans are next."

The entire American team got up on stage carrying a table and chair which Jordan, nicknamed Thermite, sat down at.

 **Insert Song – We Didn't Start The Fire by Billy Joel**

 _ **Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray  
South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio  
Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, Television  
North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe  
Rosenbergs, H-Bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom  
Brando, The King And I, and The Catcher In The Rye  
Eisenhower, Vaccine, England's got a new queen  
Marciano, Liberace, Santayana goodbye**_

 _ **We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning  
We didn't start the fire  
No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it**_

 _ **Joseph Stalin, Malenkov, Nasser and Prokofiev  
Rockefeller, Campanella, Communist Bloc  
Roy Cohn, Juan Peron, Toscanini, Dacron  
Dien Bien Phu Falls, "Rock Around the Clock"  
Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn's got a winning team  
Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, Elvis Presley, Disneyland  
Bardot, Budapest, Alabama, Khrushchev  
Princess Grace, Peyton Place, Trouble in the Suez**_

 _ **We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning  
We didn't start the fire  
No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it**_

 _ **Little Rock, Pasternak, Mickey Mantle, Kerouac  
Sputnik, Zhou Enlai, Bridge On The River Kwai  
Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball  
Starkweather Homicide, Children of Thalidomide  
Buddy Holly, Ben-Hur, Space Monkey, Mafia  
Hula Hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go  
U-2, Syngman Rhee, payola and Kennedy  
Chubby Checker, Psycho, Belgians in the Congo**_

 _ **We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning  
We didn't start the fire  
No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it**_

 _ **Hemingway, Eichmann, Stranger in a Strange Land  
Dylan, Berlin, Bay of Pigs invasion  
Lawrence of Arabia, British Beatlemania  
Ole Miss, John Glenn, Liston beats Patterson  
Pope Paul, Malcolm X, British Politician sex  
J.F.K. blown away, what else do I have to say?**_

 _ **We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning  
We didn't start the fire  
No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it**_

 _ **Birth control, Ho Chi Minh, Richard Nixon back again  
Moonshot, Woodstock, Watergate, punk rock  
Begin, Reagan, Palestine, Terror on the airline  
Ayatollah's in Iran, Russians in Afghanistan  
Wheel of Fortune, Sally Ride, heavy metal suicide  
Foreign debts, homeless Vets, AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz  
Hypodermics on the shores, China's under martial law  
Rock and Roller cola wars, I can't take it anymore**_

 _ **We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning  
We didn't start the fire  
But when we are gone  
It will still burn on, and on, and on, and on...  
We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning  
We didn't start the fire  
No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it  
We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning  
We didn't start the fire  
No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it  
We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning  
We didn't start the fire  
No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it  
We didn't start the fire  
It was always burning since the world's been turning**_

This performance earned applause from pretty much everyone in the audience, considering they had recreated the music video perfectly.

Mike got up once again, knowing that they still had a chance.

"Well, we're last because the Spanish and Brazilians forfeit, anyways here we go." He said, with the entirety of the team singing this one.

 **Insert Song- Bohemain Rhapsody by Queen**

 _ **Is this the real life?  
Is this just fantasy?  
Caught in a landslide,  
No escape from reality.**_

 _ **Open your eyes,  
Look up to the skies and see,  
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,  
Because I'm easy come, easy go,  
Little high, little low,  
Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me.**_

 _ **Mama, just killed a man,  
Put a gun against his head,  
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead.  
Mama, life had just begun,  
But now I've gone and thrown it all away.**_

 _ **Mama, ooh,  
Didn't mean to make you cry,  
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,  
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters.**_

 _ **Too late, my time has come,  
Sends shivers down my spine,  
Body's aching all the time.  
Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go,  
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth.**_

 _ **Mama, ooh (any way the wind blows),  
I don't wanna die,  
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.**_

 _ **I see a little silhouetto of a man,  
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?  
Thunderbolt and lightning,  
Very, very frightening me.  
(Galileo) Galileo.  
(Galileo) Galileo,  
Galileo Figaro  
Magnifico-o-o-o-o.**_

 _ **I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me.  
He's just a poor boy from a poor family,  
Spare him his life from this monstrosity.**_

 _ **Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?  
Bismillah! No, we will not let you go. (Let him go!)  
Bismillah! We will not let you go. (Let him go!)  
Bismillah! We will not let you go. (Let me go!)  
Will not let you go. (Let me go!)  
Never let you go (Never, never, never, never let me go)  
Oh oh oh oh  
No, no, no, no, no, no, no  
Oh, mama mia, mama mia (Mama mia, let me go.)  
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me.**_

 _ **So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?  
So you think you can love me and leave me to die?  
Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby,  
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here.**_

 _ **(Ooooh, ooh yeah, ooh yeah)**_

 _ **Nothing really matters,  
Anyone can see,  
Nothing really matters,  
Nothing really matters to me.**_

 _ **Any way the wind blows.**_

The song was amplified by the fact that Sebastien was using the drums left by the Asians, and Tina had grabbed an electric guitar and small amplifier from behind the stage, with Mike also grabbing a small piano from behind the stage with the help of James.

"Yep I concede." Meghan, nicknamed Valkyrie, said walking towards the starting point of the race across the field, followed by the Russians and Asians. The French and Germans follow suit after the shock of the performance wore off.

After about a minute the only operator left sitting was Craig, who finally stood up. "Yea, you can't really beat Bohemian Rhapsody, especially with how well you did it." He said before walking over to join the rest of the operators.

"So how many traps you put in the field?" Sebastian asked Tina, referring to her 'Welcome Mats'.

"They only allowed me to out five." She replied, as she waved James over to help her carry over Alexandr's RP-64 LMG.

"So?" Sebastian questioned as he grabbed a C9 LMG, knowing she didn't only put 5.

"I put 50." She replied, smiling as she loaded a simulation round into the LMG.

After the SAS operators had grabbed their weapons of choice, the countdown began.

"Thanks for telling the caretakers not to mow the grass Mike." Tina thanked.

"Don't mention it." He replied loading a mag into his chosen rifle.

After all the runners had put on masks Mike grabbed the microphone and made another announcement. "Just for more encouragement, if you are unable to complete the run, you will have to be up at 5 AM tomorrow for a back to basics course… Ready… Set… What comes Next? Oh yea… GO!"

It was almost pitiful, with two LMG's firing and four more various rifles, only Monika, nicknamed IQ, made it across the field untouched. As for the rest of the operators, Alexandr had made it across, with about 50 paint splotches across his clothes. By far the most pitiful run was Gustave, nicknamed Doc, who had dragged himself to the finish line with a welcome mat attached to each leg. Dominic, nicknamed Bandit, had managed to find a piece of wood, which he had protected himself with, until he stepped onto a mat, and had dropped it and had been lit up with about 80 to 120 rounds.

"So how was this a team building exercise again?" Taina, nicknamed Caveira, asked, wiping the paint off her left arm.

Everyone just shrugged and returned inside, most walking over to the bar, while the Russians went to find their vodka stash.


	2. The Newbies (2)

**The Newbies**

 _Time: 13:45_

Thatcher and Tachanka are walking around the Compound discussing the newest recruits to team Rainbow

"When are the new ops arriving?" Alexandr asked, pertaining to the operators just hired by team rainbow.

"Should be two hours for the first, two more won't be here till about 5 this evening." Mike replied, holding three separate folders for the new recruits. "Here, have a look at their Bio's"

Alexandr took the three folders before beginning to read about the newbies.

 _BIO #1_

Name: Cameron Michael Robertson, A.K.A. Ember

Sex: Male

DOB: April 2, 1988

POB: Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Allegiance: JTF2, Canadian Armed Forces

Height: 1.9304 Meters

Weight: 97.5224 Kilograms

Specialty: Incendiary Devices

Special Gadget: F1R-E Explosive Device

Gadget Description: Incendiary device that when detonated, ignites everything within 3.5 Meters, mixed with chemical causing fire not to spread, and to combust materials extremely quickly.

Biography: Born in Toronto, Cameron hasn't had the worst life. Graduated high school in Sydenham Ontario, before applying and entering the Royal Military College of Canada under a Chemical Engineering degree. Applied to Special forces in Fall of 2013. First produced his device in Spring of 2017.

Physiatrist Notes: Cameron suffers from Asperger's Disease He also has insomnia and nightmares due to car accident in Spring of 2008 that killed his brother and left him with **Tinnitus** in both ears, uses music to cope. He feels like he is at fault for his brother's death, even though the crash was caused by a drunk driver. **IS A PYROMANIAC, DO NOT GIVE HIM EXPLOSIVES!** Shows extreme talent in phycological warfare, three personnel discharged after extended exposure to tactics used by Cameron.

Family: Parents, brother (Deceased)

Other Skills: Phycological Warfare, Knows French, and Sign Language. Can Read Lips, Skilled Driver

"This first guy, very talented, but he has problems." Alexandr commented after reading the first Bio.

"Physiatrist cleared him for duty." Mike replied. "And he is an excellent problem solver, just ignore the pyro bit, he just likes blowing stuff up."

 _BIO #2_

Name: Logan Johnathan White, A.K.A. Outback

Sex: Male

DOB: August 27, 1986

POB: Perth, Western Australia, Australia

Allegiance: SOC, Australian Army

Height: 1.793 Meters

Weight: 91.82 Kilograms

Specialty: High Powered Weaponry

Special Gadget: 50. Cal Specialty Rounds

Gadget Description: Personally Made 50. Cal rounds, that can penetrate any surface including solid concrete, with no bullet drop.

Biography: Born in Perth, Logan lived outside of the city on his family's farm, from a very young age, he enjoyed hunting for sport and pest control. Graduated from high school and applied to join the Australian Army, showed expert marksmanship, and developed his special rounds in the summer of 2016.

Physiatrist Notes: Logan has sight ADD.

Family: Parents, two brothers and one sister, wife, one son, two daughters.

Other Skills: Marksman, Skilled Driver

"Second guy, also extremely good." Alexandr mentioned.

 _BIO #3_

Name: Olivia Chow. A.K.A. Ghost

Sex: Female

DOB: April 20, 1988

POB: Auckland, North Island, New Zealand

Allegiance: SOC, New Zealand Army

Height: 1.65 Meters

Weight: 69.89 Kilograms

Specialty: Stealth Technology

Special Gadget: INV1-Z1 Cloaking Device

Gadget Description: Device renders user almost completely transparent while moving slowly, and completely transparent while still. Device will not work if arms are extended. Only works for 3 seconds before batteries need charge.

Biography: Born in Auckland with the surname Williams, Olivia ran away from an abusive family at age 10 and adopted by Chinese Immigrants, graduated top of her class and entered armed forces, reported that she had been working on her gadget for as long as since 2011.

Physiatrist Notes: Suffers from nightmares due to abusive past, comforted by traditional Chinese music, otherwise perfect mental health.

Family: Adopted parents, three sisters and two brothers.

Other Skills: Hacking, Tracking, Knows Chinese

Alexandr was silent after reading the final Bio.

"Ah Chow. Yes, very sad past, but she is over that."

"Very sad when things like this happen." Alexandr finally said. As a car pulled up to the gate, catching both operator's attention.

"Wonder what this could be." Mike thought aloud. As the car was let through security.

The car pulled up and parked in front of the two operators, with Sledge getting out of the driver's seat and one of the newbies getting out of the back.

"Seamus? Thought you would be another two bloody hours!" Mike exclaimed.

"Yea, well he arrived early." Seamus replied.

"How? His flight hasn't even landed."

"I didn't really look forward to a three-hour layover in Atlanta, so I rebooked with KLM and got an overnight flight to Amsterdam and took a taxi to a rendezvous point I made this morning." The recruit informed. "Cameron by the way." He said extending a hand.

Mike shook it before replying. "Mike. That's Alexandr." He said pointing at Alexandr. "Guess we have to pay you for the expenses now."

"No, I used points I had made up from previous trips."

'Okay then, I guess we must introduce you now, because the other two aren't arriving till 5 because they are coming from Down Under."

"I would hate to be on that flight." Seamus mumbled.

"It is 23 and a half hours with layover in either Singapore, Dubai or Hong Kong." Alexandr informed.

Everyone looked at Alexandr before everyone heard a grinding noise, and looked over at Cameron, who was playing with a Zippo lighter.

He looked up at everyone staring at him. "Problem?" he asked, closing the lighter.

"Just don't burn the compound down. Speaking of burning, I'd like to see your gadget in action." Mike said.

"Sure thing, But I am not showing it if there will be live humans in the room." Cameron said.

"Why?" Seamus questioned.

"I did tests with small amounts of my mixture and lab rats, the smoke is toxic, if it gets on you, it will burn through clothes and flesh, and if you catch on fire, you can't put it out without water."

"Okay then, point taken. We do have a testing building with wood on the windows, if you want to test it in front of everyone."

Suddenly Cameron's phone went crazy, vibrating, ringing, and displaying a trademark image of one of the other operators. Cameron's eye also started twitching.

"GRACE, STOP MESSING WITH THE NEW GUY'S BLOODY PHONE!" Mike yelled, throwing a half drank water bottle at the window where Grace and Mark (Mute) were watching from. "AND WHILE YOU'RE AR IT, CALL A MEETING IN THE COMMON ROOM!"

They were laughing their asses off before the water bottle hit the window, scaring them back into reality.

Cameron's phone returned to normal after a couple seconds, displaying his lock screen.

"So, are practical jokes allowed?" Cameron asked.

"Not officially, but nobody will make a report if you do." Mike replied, knowing where this was going. "No lighting anything on fire."

"Don't worry, I will not burn anything, I am excellent at phycological warfare though." Cameron replied, cracking his knuckles. "Anybody else here that has a grudge against her?"

"I Do." Alexandr spoke up. "She hid my vodka, hold it ransom."

"I will need your help, because this is a two-person job."

"Cameron, I've read your Bio, don't go too far." Mike said as a warning. "Now, about introducing you to everyone."

 _Five Minutes Later_

Inside the common room, all the operators were gathered, seated on various couches, facing a TV on the wall, where Sebastien and Craig were in a 1v1 race on Grand Turismo.

Mike walked in with Cameron and Alexandr following him.

"SHUT IT!" Mike yelled as he approached the group. Causing Craig to pause his game, and for the rest of the operators to quiet down. "This is one of our new recruits, Cameron, or Ember. Give him a round of applause before you use him for target practice tomorrow." Mike said, earning a fair amount of applause. "Okay, ask him as many questions as you want." He said, pushing Cameron in front of the group.

Maxim (Kapkan) instantly called out "What weapons do you use?"

"I may sound crazy, but my secondary is a Browning Hi-Power, and my two primaries are a Madsen MG, and an Ithaca 37- Slam-shot." Cameron Replied.

"Okay I can understand the Browning and Ithaca, but why a Madsen?" Craig called out.

"Call me old fashioned, but I find it more reliable then modern firearms."

"Understandable, but they let you?" Tina asked.

"The form said any weapon, so I chose any weapon!" Cameron said raising his hands defensively.

"So, I theoretically could have said a M1928A1 and they would have said yes?" Eliza asked.

"Considering that was invented after mine was made, I will say yes."

"Okay, that's enough, l think everyone wants to see his device in action." Mike interrupted, ushering Cameron towards the armory.

"I can agree with that." James says. "I'm presuming the kill house."

"Yep!" Mike yelled over his shoulder, pushing Cameron down the stairs.

"OW!" He yells from the basement.

"Sorry."

 _Two Hours and Forty-Five Minutes Later_

"Okay Cameron, Got everything ready?" Mike says as Cameron checks over his device.

"Yep. You filled the room up with objects of various materials, right?" Cameron asks, turning his F1R-E in hand.

"Yep." Mike says before bringing a radio to his mouth. "The Range is Hot." He says before nodding to Cameron, who dons a gasmask.

After a buzzer rings, Cameron walked over to the Building, where a corner room was created to show off his device. He pulled out His browning, where he shot out a piece of wood, before striking his device against his other wrist, covered in a matchbox striking pad, igniting the small fuse, before throwing it through the hole and jumping out of the way of the window. After about two seconds, the room lit up with a flash before the windows were blown out.

The rest of the operators looked on in awe as a large inferno engulphed the room, before quickly dying out.

After Cameron signaled that it was safe, the buzzer was sounded again, and the rest of the operators approached the building, commenting on the damage.

"Looked great, but it burned itself out too quickly!" Craig said patting Cameron on the back.

"Didn't burn out, it ran out of fuel." Cameron said gesturing for the rest of he operators to follow him.

The operators followed Cameron inside where he led them to the room, where everyone's jaws dropped.

Since it was a closed room, the entire room is coated in ash and soot, and every single piece of furniture that wasn't metal was either mostly or fully burned into a pile of ash.

"And what if there were people in here?" Siu (Ying) asked.

"Then you'd have half melted corpses in here too."

From outside a car horn was heard, and everyone looked out a window to see that the other two recruits had arrived.

"Splendid. Now we can demonstrate their weapons too." Mike said as he walked outside.

Everyone, after the shock of Cameron's weapon wore off, made their way over to the new Recruits and introduced themselves.

The Australian went first. (Thick Accent) "G'Day everyone I'm Logan, also known as Outback, I'm your new Sniper" He said earning a smile from Tim as he was no longer the only sniper.

"Guess it's my turn." Said a voice coming from nowhere.

"Who Said that?" Sebastien asked, looking around.

"I did." Said a girl, who appeared right in front of them. Earning a jump from everyone and a not so manly scream from Craig.

"That didn't happen." Craig said composing himself.

"Okay, whatever it is I want one." Sebastien exclaimed.

"Nope mine, I'm Olivia by the way." She said with a small wave.

"Logan, want to show off your rounds?" Mike said, holding a Barret 50. Cal

"Sure." He said, pulling a small ammunition box out of his bag, before he loaded the magazine.

Everyone followed him over to the target range, where Mike had a three-foot-thick piece of concrete placed in front of a watermelon.

"Goggles everyone." Mike said, with everyone grabbing a pair of goggles, except for Cameron, who just put his gas mask back on.

Logan took aim at a small red X made from tape in the center of the concrete slab, before taking fire, shattering the concrete, and detonating the watermelon behind it.

"Holy…" Seamus mumbled wondering if his hammer could do that.

"Okay, first training with the newbies is 0900 tomorrow morning, so sleep up!" Mike said knowing that the veterans would probably just take the newbies drinking as always.


	3. Bad Memories (3)

**Bad Memories**

 _2245 Hours, Somewhere Over The North Atlantic_

Ten of the operators were returning from Iceland after an attempted terrorist attack at a concert in Reykjavik, among them were Thatcher, Blackbeard, Glaz, IQ, Ela, Sledge, Smoke, Tachanka, and two of the newbies Ember and Outback. Logan got his first chance to prove himself in the field, when he had to take a shot through a box truck. He hit his mark, only injuring the terrorist, allowing him to be interrogated.

Now they were on their way back to base in a military helicopter, staying in the empty cargo bay. Mike and Alexandr were seated backs to the cockpit, reviewing the helmet camera footage of the operation, looking for any mistakes that could be improved on. Monika and Ela were chatting about plans for the next day, across from Logan and Cameron, who was sleeping, but obviously was having a bad dream based on his facial expressions but was quiet other from his headphones where Logan could faintly hear _I Ran_ by A Flock of Seagulls. Seamus, James, Tim, and Craig were seated at the back of the heli, playing a game of blackjack, to which James was beating everybody at.

"You're cheating." Tim said after James' fifteenth straight victory.

"Am not, you all are just shit." He replied, collecting his winnings.

"No, I agree, something is wrong here." Craig said, taking out his wallet to see how much money he had left.

"Nope. Just luck."

"Bull to the shit." Seamus said, taking the deck of cards from James. "I'm dealing this time."

"Fine."

Seamus then dealt a had to every person, and then continued the game. Almost immediately James won.

"I'm Done." Craig said, taking out his phone.

"Yep, me too." Tim followed, grabbing his rifle to clean it.

Forward in the aircraft, Monika and Ela were talking about plans for later.

"So how many will be joining us?" Ela asked, looking at a reservation they made.

"Five including us." Monika replied looking at a group text chat.

"Okay so tha…" Ela began before she was cut off by Cameron suddenly waking up with a scream, and him jerking awake so violently, he fell off the seat he was laying on.

He quickly became aware of his surroundings, and before anybody could get up to help him, he stood up himself and sat back on his seat, taking a pill bottle from his bag, and downing a pill with a flask he also got from his bag.

"Before anyone asks, I am all right." He said after replacing his items in his bag, before laying back down and falling back asleep.

Logan, worried, reached into Cameron's bag and grabbed the pill bottle and flask before crossing and sitting next to Monika.

"I'm worried for him." Logan said, handing the pill bottle to Monika.

"Clonazepam." She said, googling the drug. "Used to treat disorders including Anxiety, panic attacks, and night terrors among other things."

Logan uncapped the flask and took a smell of the contents, before jerking back and gagging. "That's melatonin."

"Melatonin?" Ela asked.

"Knock out drugs, used to make you fall asleep." Logan said, returning the items to Cameron's bag.

Mike had gotten up and walked over to the group, along with the guys who were playing poker.

"Okay I will be truthful with you guys, because we are a team. He has night terrors due to a traumatic accident a decade ago. He has been okayed by every single doctor he has seen." Mike said, trying to explain it without divulging personal information.

"What kind of accident?" Craig asked, wondering what would cause that kind of response for as long as a decade.

"That's not for me to tell you. If you must know, ask him. And don't force him, last time somebody did, he showed just how efficient he could be with a knife." Mike said, recalling the note that only he dad gotten along with the Bio.

The rest of the flight went without incident, the entire team, minus Mike and Alexandr, keeping one eye on Cameron.

After they had landed back at base, Mike had waited for everyone to leave and woke Cameron with Alexandr.

"Here already?" He asked, sitting up and stretching.

"Cameron. I am not going to withhold the truth from you. While you were asleep they did go through your bag to see what you took." Alexandr said, kneeling in front of him.

"I don't blame them. I would want to see what one of the people watching my back was talking too. I'm guessing that you had to give them an explanation."

"All I said was that you had a traumatic accident." Mike replied, looking out the window checking to see if anyone was waiting for them. "Looks like they are watching us." He said, barely seeing the operators behind the water-covered windows.

"Let's go. Don't want them being suspicious." Cameron said, grabbing his duffle bag, and standing up.

 _The Next Morning_

Cameron had a horrid night's sleep. He had doxed off at midnight, only to be woken up at two thirty by the same dream. He had given up on sleep that night and had just laid in bed, listening to various slow-paced songs, to calm him down.

He had fallen back asleep at about five in the morning and was awoken by a knocking on his door.

He made haste and quickly got up and walked over to the door, hoping the knocker was still there. He looked through the keyhole and saw Logan and Olivia.

Cameron opened the door and put on his best face to greet the operators.

"Ohh, you look horrible." Logan said, earning a slap across the back of the head by Olivia.

"Yea, well, I didn't get much sleep." Cameron replied as sarcastically as possible.

"Cameron. What's wrong, it looks like it's killing you." Olivia asked wholeheartedly.

"It's a long story that I am not prepared to tell." Cameron said as the memories flooded back once more, This time too overwhelmingly.

Logan noticed Cameron's skin turn pale, and barely caught him as his knees buckled.

"Okay. You're going to see Doc." Olivia said, panicking for Cameron's health.

Cameron shook himself from their grasp and retreated to his doorway before speaking again. "Okay, I will tell you, but give me a minute." He said closing the door.

Logan and Olivia stood outside his door for a full five minutes before he reopened his door and invited them inside.

Cameron's room was still mainly undecorated, minus the different bedsheets and various items beside a laptop on his computer desk.

Cameron sat down in his desk chair, offering a seat to the two on the edge of his bed.

The two accepted and took a seat and waited while Cameron took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to speak.

"It was the October the twelfth, 2008 about seven at night." He began.

"Didn't your Bio say." Logan began.

"That was an error, it was fall not spring. I was driving home for thanksgiving, having a break for once, so I could see my entire family. I had picked my brother James up from his house, because he lived between the base I was stationed at and my parent's place. So, I picked him up and we were driving along a road that we had taken so many times, I could have done it blindfolded. We had almost made it home when we approached the T- intersection where the next turn was. He was telling a story about what had happened that morning, when my nephew had woken him up." He continued, with tears beginning to form in his eyes. Neither operator dared interrupt him, with their hearts wrenching at where the story was going.

"I begin the turn and wham!" Cameron said, punching his open hand, before beginning to openly cry. "I wake up in KGH the next day with my family surrounding me. They said he didn't suffer, they said he died on impact. But they don't know that. They only know that when the next car pulled up. I was sitting there with a few broken bones, and my brother was dead!" Cameron continued, becoming angrier as he continued. "The driver of the other car lived with severe injuries. He was three times over the legal limit of alcohol. He got sent to jail and is still serving his time. But that won't change the fact that his wife and two kids now must go on without him. That won't change the fact that every single fucking night, I have that scenario replay inside my head. Sometimes I'm lucky and it stops on impact. But most of the time I have to sit there and watch the scenario out as an invisible bystander. Watching as the medics arrive, and take me and the drunk to hospital, and then for the police and coroner to show up and take their pictures and then haul my brother's lifeless body off to the morgue where they will do an autopsy for the obvious cause of death. Then his funeral comes, and I sit there while everyone who knew him says 'I'm sorry' or 'My condolences' and then I watch as the dream fades away and I'm left lying in bed, with nothing but prescriptions that don't work and sleep medicine to make me relive that hell again!"

By now Logan and Olivia are sitting there with their hearts on the ground in millions of tiny pieces.

"Thanks for letting me vent." Cameron said. Taking a different bottle of pills and downing one with a bottle of water. "You can either have the red pill that doesn't stop your nightmares, or the blue pill which will calm you down enough to be a rational human being." Cameron said, mocking an imaginary doctor. "If you want to file a report that I am too mentally disturbed to be part of this operation, be my guest. It wouldn't be unwarranted."

All Olivia responded with was to stand up and walk over to Cameron and give him a hug. "I know it's just four words, but I am so sorry." She said as Cameron accepted the hug.

The two operators then left Cameron's room, passing Monika and Ela on the way down the hall.

"We heard yelling, Is everything all right?" Ela asked, looking down the hall.

Olivia kept walking, while Logan stopped. "Cameron just told us his story, my heart is broken into millions of pieces, I will explain after I have had a few drinks." He said before continuing down the hall towards the Bar.

Two vodkas and a story later, everyone seated at the bar was quiet after hearing what Logan and Olivia had told them.

"I feel sorry for him. If he is really replaying that scenario for ten years, whenever he falls asleep, I'm surprised he's not in the loony bin." Meghan said, staring at the wall in front of her.

Everyone silently agreed with her as they sat there wondering how bad Cameron really had it.


	4. Lighting Stuff Up (4)

**Lighting Stuff Up**

POV: Cameron Robertson, CODENAME: EMBER

 _Bir Tawil, Border Between Egypt and Sudan, 8:32 PM_

"Why do terrorists do this kind of stuff in the worst of places?" Ela asked as we approached the target, riding multiple Jeeps with mounted guns.

"Neither Sudan nor Egypt claims this land, so it is essentially lawless." Glaz said, making final adjustments on his scope for when we drop him and Outback at the point where they would provide overwatch and sniper support.

I was driving the jeep, following the jeep in front of me continuing Dokkaebi, Blackbeard, Thatcher, and Blitz.

Ela pulled back the bolt on the MG, ensuring that it was loaded as we came within two kilometers of the compound.

"Remember, It's an area of tents. The second Dokkaebi kills the lights, we are speeding in and securing the cargo." Ela reminded us as we went over final review. The cargo, as we had labeled it, was a crate of unknown contents that an arms dealer had sold to a Terrorist group wreaking havoc on North Africa.

We pulled up alongside the other jeep as we reach the final ridge and let Outback and Glaz out. Blitz hopped out of the other jeep and climbed into ours as Dokkaebi began the process of overloading the lights of the compound.

"We have eyes on the cargo." Outback said over the radio. I loaded my Ithaca 37 and left it half pumped, so all I would have to do would be push the slide forward and fire. Then I put in some earbuds attached to my gear and scrolled through my phone before hitting it and strapping it in a pocket.

 **Insert Song: Beds Are Burning – Midnight Oil**

Thatcher gave the thumbs up and Dokkaebi touched her laptop, and over the ridge the lights amplified and then almost simultaneously blew. I floored the gas and the two jeeps climbed over the ridge, with Ela and Blackbeard beginning to unload the MGs into the confused arms dealers and terrorists that were running around wondering what happened to the lights. Thatcher hit a hard left, following his route to the motor pool to either disable or destroy any mode of escape. I however shifted the Jeep into the next gear and plowed through the compound as Ela and Blitz emptied rounds into the tents and terrorists that we passed. A suicide bomber jumped out in front of us, only for her head to disappear thanks to Outback's .50 Cal rifle.

I plow over two terrorists that were two stubborn to move while reloading their weapons and we reached the cargo. I hit the E-Brake and slid the jeep sideways, jumping out and emptying a shell into a terrorist to my left. As he went down, Blitz came around the hood of the Jeep and downed two more terrorists before throwing a grenade towards a makeshift radio hut where a terrorist had just run.

As the grenade detonated I slid around the side of the crate and utilized the Slam-Fire mode of my shotgun and quickly dispatched three more terrorists planting explosives to destroy the cargo.

Taking advantage of my time, I reloaded my shotgun with one hand, while having my Hi-Power at the ready in its holster. After about ten minutes of finding holdouts and taking prisoners, the compound was cleared, and I had joined Dokkaebi, Thatcher and Glaz to inspect the cargo while the others watched the fifteen or so prisoners that hadn't fought to the end.

"I don't want to open it, because I don't know what it is!" Glaz was saying to Thatcher as I approached. Dokkaebi was on her laptop, going through some computers and other electronics that had been collected from the compound.

"Find anything useful yet?" I ask, taking a seat next to her and picking up a laptop that was in her unchecked pile.

"Nothing yet. Just potential targets for whatever this is." She replies gesturing to the giant crate.

"Ooh this looks promising." I say seeing a file on the desktop of the laptop.

"What is it?"

"Looks like instructions for handling the cargo." I reply scanning the page. "By the way. How have you not collapsed from heatstroke?" I ask referring to her combat gear, which consisted of all black, skintight clothing.

"Internal cooling system." She replied with a smug grin.

"Lucky you, I had to change into this Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, which I hate!" I say referring to my outfit. "Anyways. It's pretty standard instructions except for one thing."

"What is it?"

I cough and continue using my most mocking voice possible "DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, LET THE CRATE BE LEFT UNATTENDED."

"Seems quite standard." She points out.

"In the middle of the desert, surrounded by about a hundred armed goons?" I question.

"Hey Cameron!" Glaz called out from the crate.

"Yea?"

"You know French, right?"

"It's required to become an Officer in The Army!" I say getting up.

I walk over, Dokkaebi following, and approach Glaz, who points to a label on the crate, written in both French and Arabic.

"It's just standard 'Handle With Care' Instructions. I say, scanning the label.

"Know what? I'm tired of waiting, it's probably just a lot of AK-47's or something." Thatcher says, before grabbing a crowbar and prying off one of the side panels which hits the ground, followed by a noticeable beeping.

We all look in the crate, where a fair sized bomb was sitting, with a timer for 15 minutes beginning to count down.

"Ehh, we got 15 minutes to disarm the bomb." Glaz says annoyed.

"Let me read the label." I say pointing at a fair-sized label next to the display.

My heart stops as I read line by line, before stepping back, a loom of pure horror on my face.

"What is it?" Dokkaebi asks.

"Remember how South Africa had nukes, but dismantled them in pursuit of world peace?" I say.

Everyone nods as the colour from their face drains.

"Found one. I say run."

Everyone nods before grabbing anything of use and legging it towards the others.

"Hey guys. What's the big rush?" Blackbeard asks as we come running up to the group of operators and prisoners seated in the center of the motor pool.

"We know what's in the crate!" Glaz yells as we run for one of the personnel trucks not destroyed.

"What is it?" Blitz yells at him as he begins loading the prisoners into the back of the truck.

"A Nuclear bomb that has 15 minutes till it goes boom!" I Yell as I begin throwing useful data and papers into the back of another truck.

Everyone instantly begins to rush, loading the rest of the prisoners, who are more than happy to get onto the truck, and throwing everything of use into others. After about seven minutes everyone piles into one of three trucks and we floor it upwind of the site.

After six minutes we are only about 4 kilometers away but that would have to do.

"EVERYONE HIT THE DECK." I Yell as I Stop the truck and jump out, digging myself a hole in the ground behind a sand dune, along with everyone else

 _Funny, here I am sitting in a hole that I just dug, hopefully out of range of any immediate injury, but for all I how, that thing will kill us all instantly, turning us to carbon and scattering us in the sand, won't hear from us again, for all they know, we escaped, and are somewhere in the desert._ I think to myself as I sit there, hands covering my eyes, mouth open.

The it went off. Funny thing, everyone thinks that when a nuke goes off, you hear it instantly, but nope. Only thing that told me it went off was that I could see the bones in my fingers like an x-ray. I slowly removed my head from the sand and looked around to see everyone also looking around. I say a few of the prisoners standing up and looking in the direction of the detonation, mouths open. Some fell to their knees thanking whatever god they followed and crying tears of joy. I also stood up. What I saw I will never forget. Illuminating the night, was a rising mushroom cloud, but then I remembered something.

"EVERYONE HIT THE DECK!" I yell as I see the sand moving.

I'm too late as the blast wave hits me and throws me through the air. I'm okay, but I know that sand isn't as soft as people think. Then I hit the ground and am knocked out cold.

 _The Next Morning, Cairo, Egypt_

POV: Grace Nam, CODENAME: DOKKAEBI

Cameron wasn't dead. He was just out cold with a fractured rib. We were lucky that he had remembered about the blast wave, or more people could have been worse. Evac had arrived twenty minutes after the blast, we were immediately given potassium iodide and were flown to Cairo where we were forced to stand in the shower for an hour to make sure that we didn't have any radioactive materials left on us.

All the prisoners were taken to the appropriate government where they would be tortured for information and then imprisoned or shot depending on what government got them.

Cameron was cleared to be released from hospital this morning and we would be flying back to Hereford this afternoon. Currently he was sleeping in his hospital bed, one operator was to be with him always, because Olivia and Logan had told us about the horrific nightmares he had. I had collected his phone and its accessories after they were decontaminated and had chosen a random song off the playlist that was still running and put the headphones in his ears. He has a strange way of listening to music. He would listen to one song over and over and over until he got bored of it and then would go no to the next. I had taken the liberty of choosing his most played song "Twilight Zone" by Golden Earring.

Suddenly, Cameron shot up in bed, eyes wide in terror. He looked around the room and saw me sitting there with my laptop. He recognized me and my emblem on the laptop cover, so he fell backwards onto the bed, quietly singing the lyrics to the song.

" _Help I'm steppin' into the twilight zone  
The place is a madhouse  
Feels like being cloned  
My beacon's been moved  
Under moon and star  
Where am I to go  
Now that I've gone too far _

_Help I'm steppin' into the twilight zone  
The place is a madhouse  
Feels like being cloned  
My beacon's been moved  
Under moon and star  
Where am I to go  
Now that I've gone too far  
Soon you will come to know  
When the bullet hits the bone  
Soon you will come to know  
When the bullet hits the bone"_

He then turned down the volume of the music before beginning to talk to me.

"How many casualties?" He asks, propping himself up with his elbows.

"Just you surprisingly, everyone else was lower to the ground so they hit it faster." I replied, closing the monitor to the laptop, where I was watching his vital signs.

"Probably didn't help that I was mesmerized by the mushroom cloud. Weird isn't it? I was looking at the immediate aftermath of the most destructive weapon known to mankind, and I was looking at it like it was the Mona Lisa."

"I'll be honest, after the blast passed, I think everyone watched it out of one eye while we looked for you." I say before shifting to a more personal matter. "Do you have the nightmare every night?"

He looks at me for a second, finding the words to explain, before he speaks. "Not every night. Lately I have only been getting it once or twice a week. And it has always ended the same way. It freezes a few milliseconds after impact and I am left sitting there, looking around at the windshield slowly shatter and the metal of the car slowly crumple. I don't dare look at my brother because seeing his death in slow motion is something I do not ever want to see."

"The song, it calmed you down instantly, why is that?" I ask.

He again took a deep breath, pondering his response before speaking. "It was the last song that me and my brother ever listened to together. The crash happened at the beginning of the next one."

He then slightly lifted the covers to the bed before looking around the room. "So." He said in a half question, half statement. "Where's my pants."

"Your case with clothes is over there." I say pointing at the black pelican case on top of a table.

"Yea I'll get changed after you leave." He says leaning back and picking up his phone, scrolling and presumably changing songs.

I grab by laptop and exit the room and walk down the hall to the lounge where the other operators are resting, still under medical observation.

"He's up." I say sitting down between Craig and Mike.

"Nightmare?" Glaz asks.

"Yea, and I figured what calms him down quickest." I reply

"What is it?" Craig questions, opening a can of Coke.

"Twilight Zone by Golden Earring."

"Oh, I remember when that came out. Everyone listened to it because it was the same band that made Radar Love" Mike recalled, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"Whelp. I need something to eat. When's the transport arriving?"

"Half past 3 on the roof Helipad." Mike said, to which everyone stood up and dispersed, some going to see Cameron, others wandering the hospital to find food.


	5. Shots (5)

**Shots**

 _Drunken Monkey Pub & Bar, __Prague, Czech Republic_

POV: Logan White, CODENAME: OUTBACK

We were in Prague, after another successful mission in the cities outskirts, where a group of partisans for a local right-wing group were holding several hostages. We had stopped at a bar before returning to the base where we would have a flight back to Hereford, Zofia and Monika overheard Sebastien say that he had never had Czech beer, so now he was at the bar, with several glasses of various local beers sitting in front of him.

"He really shouldn't have said that." Elias (Blitz) said as he sat down next to me, beer glass in hand.

"What are they doing now?" I say, nodding over to the bar where Sebastien is downing every single glass.

"I presume trying to make him drunk." He replied, taking a sip of his beer.

"By the way, did you know that Cameron and I have the same birthday?"

"Really?"

"Yea, it came during one of Mike's little exercises, he told everyone born in April to show up to the field and made us stand on numbers that matched our birthday. Cameron and I just looked at each other and tried how to figure out how two people could stand on one line!"

"Where is Cameron by the way?"

"Over there, in a drinking competition with Ela." He replies, pointing behind him, where the two are seated in a booth, about two dozen empty shot glasses in front of them.

"I want to see which one hurls first." I say, standing up and walking over.

Alexandr, Grace, and Meghan are already seated across from the booth, at a table, money in front of them.

"Who's winning?" I ask, Elias and I taking a seat.

"Hard to tell. Both have obviously done this before." Meghan said, keeping watch of the two.

"You think you can win?" Ela said, determined look plastered on her face.

"Been drinking the stuff since I was 19. Neighbor grew potatoes, sold me the rotten ones' dirt cheap." Cameron said in response, downing another shot.

"How many bottles have they gone through?" Elias asks, spying bottles on the floor below them.

"How many is it? 2 at this point." Grace said looking over at Alexandr, who is also drinking vodka, but not like the other two.

"да, they have only used two. I am surprised. Most men I served with can't drink this much so quickly. Reminds me of last time in Prague." He replied, starting to get lost in memories.

"When was this?" I ask, intrigued on what happened last time.

"Back when it was still Czechoslovakia, and I was merely an officer in the Red Army. I was with some comrades, in a bar not that far from here, and one challenged me to a drinking competition. Now, due to the political system at the time, all the bar had in excess was cheap vodka that was made before I was born. Anyways. We both took one sip of the stuff and barely made it out the door before we emptied out stomachs onto the sidewalk." He said chuckling.

While he was talking, Ela had conceded defeat, before slumping over and beginning to snore. Cameron managed to stand up and was now at the bar, drinking a lot of water, before he returned and sat down in the booth, pulling out his phone to change the song, which was broadcasting over the speakers in the pub.

"Okay, who-o wants to play a song next?" Cameron said, slightly slurring his words.

"I'll go, just hit random. Meghan said, tossing her phone to Cameron, who barely caught it after fumbling with it for a second."

POV: Petr Slanina, right-wing extremist.

It was mainly timing that didn't get me shot. I had been voluntold to go get supplies. Left through the back door and slipped through the police barricade unseen. By the time I got back, Rainbow had just arrived, and were making entry into the warehouse. I watched as one of them throw what looked like a brick through one of the windows, only for the rest of the windows in that room to blow out with fire.

I had watched as my former allies were dragged out in body bags and the former hostage, taken to hospital in an ambulance. I had followed the operators to the bar and was waiting across the street, with a Glock 17 in my hand, looking for any way I could avenge my allies.

After watching several of the operators intoxicate themselves, I slowly exited my car, leaving a notepad with a note relating to my cause on the passenger seat. I walked across the street, keeping myself composed, and my Glock hidden in my jacket. I approached the door to the bar and opened it with my left hand, right hand in my pocket, concealing my Glock.

"Sorry buddy, place is rented out tonight." I hear the bartender say, attracting my attention to the bar, where the bartender was looking at me while filling a glass for one of the three operators at the bar.

I slowly pulled my Glock, pointing it at the backs of the operators and pulled the trigger.

POV: Cameron Robertson

I wasn't shitfaced drunk yet, but the Vodka was about to hit my bloodstream and that wouldn't be fun. I had just barely caught Meghan's phone when I heard three gunshots ring out from the entrance, where a man was standing, arm extended, pointing at the bar, where Sebastien had just hit the floor, and Monika and Zofia had jumped the bar, hiding with the bartender.

Switching into autopilot, I did the first thing that came to mind, in one fluid motion, I shifted my grip on Meghan's phone and flung it like a knife at the shooter, and almost immediately beginning to charge at the man, adrenaline replacing the alcohol in my blood.

My throw hadn't hit the mark I wanted it to, but life gives you little gifts. It hit the man in the hand, causing him to drop his gun, before looking at me, rapidly approaching, in a ramming stance. His look changed from one of determination, into one that said "Shit." He said just before I made contact with his ribcage, propelling him through the glass door to the bar, and leaving us on the sidewalk.

He quickly regained his composure, and thrusted his knee into my gut, making me flinch just enough for him to throw me from him. I quickly made it to my feet, forming a fighting stance, while he did the same, but also pulled a knife from his jacket.

"That's unfair." I say, looking disappointed.

"So is throwing something at my gun." He says before lunging forward with the knife, only for me to counter him and push him back.

Before he could attack again, three shots rang out from my right, causing him to hit the ground, three newly formed holes in his chest. I look over and see Logan, the shooter's former gun in hand.

I quickly ensure the guy is dead before dragging him out of the street and leaving him on the sidewalk before I return inside, to see a situation forming in front of me. Sebastien is face down on the floor, a small pool of blood around him, with Zofia and the bartender holding wads of gauze over one wound in his right shoulder and two on his lower back. He is still conscious, constantly swearing, but still loosing blood. I walk over to see if they need any help.

"How bad?" I ask, grabbing several towels from behind the bar and tossing them to the bartender, who begins using them to stop the bleeding.

"They are still in him, as long as he doesn't move he won't lose blood fast. Run down the street, there is a police station at the end of the block, probably heard the shots. Take someone!" Alexandr yells as he also begins to tend to Sebastien's wounds.

"Who here knows Czech!" I yell, heading for the door.

"I do!" Monika replied quickly.

"Well them C'mon!" I say beginning to run down the street, with her not far behind.

We reach the end of the block in record time, several people gawking at us as we ran, possibly because they recognize us, probably because my jeans were covered in blood. I burst into the police station, rushing up to the first desk I see.

The officer doesn't react well, whether my rush inside, or my pants, as she stands up and points her pistol at me.

"Ne, počkej!" Monika yelled as she burst in behind me, her badge in hand.

"Jaký je význam tohoto?" The officer asked.

"Člověk nás napadl u baru na ulici, je mrtvý, ale jeden z našich přátel se krvácí." Monika replied gasping for air after her run.

The officer turned around and began yelling "Získejte sanitku na cestě a dva důstojníci následují tyto dva!"

"C'mon." Monica said, waiving me out the door, I followed, with two officers behind me.

We once again made our run down the street, arriving at the bar, even more winded then when we ran to the station.

We wave the officers past us, one heads inside to tend to Sebastian, while the other checked on the shooter, who I propped against the wall of the building, a pool of blood having formed around him.

"Kdo ho zabil?" The officer asked.

Monika and I both point at Logan, who is sitting at a table with Grace. Logan still has the pistol in hand, his knuckles white as he grasps it in a death grip.

We then return inside to join into the spectacle.


	6. Lights Out (6)

_Love the support I'm getting for my stories, I'm mainly doing this just to pass time because I'm a night owl, anyways, loving the support and thank you. - Author_

 **Lights Out**

 _One and one-half week since previous chapter, Columbus, Mississippi_

POV: Olivia Chow, CODENAME: GHOST

We were in Columbus for a large hostage situation at one of the local high schools, where several White Masks had stormed the school mid-day and had taken half the school hostage.

"Okay so, they are in control of the entire school, there are three floors. Top floor contains several science classrooms and a chemical storage room, along with several other various classrooms. On the second floor is the library, staff offices, and more classrooms, on the first floor/basement is several computer classes, a cooking class, two gyms, and three shops, one being woodworking, one being welding, and one being automotive, security cameras captured the entire two top floors being held hostage, while half of the students escaped the basement before the Masks got there. We have an unknown number of assailants, and hostages being roughly 500." Thatcher listed, pointing to several maps laid out on the table.

"Sounds like a shit show." I mumble under my breath.

"That's because it is." Cameron replied, somehow hearing me from across the table.

The operators on this mission included Thatcher, Ash, Montagne, Doc, Dokkaebi, IQ, Glaz, Sledge, Fuze, Ember, Outback, and I. There were two more operators than usual because of the size of the situation.

"Okay. Ember, Ghost, Dokkaebi and Doc, you take enter through the south entrance and clear the basement. Ash, Montagne, Sledge, and I will take East entrance, clearing administration offices before meeting with IQ, Sledge, and Fuze who will enter the North Western entrance, and clear the main stairwell, and staff offices. We will then clear the rest of the main floor, before proceeding up the main staircase with the first team proceeding up the South staircase. All while Glaz and Outback provide overwatch from the water tower and public-school roof respectively." Thatcher finished, before stepping back from the table. "Any Questions?"

"Are we to tell any hostages we find to leave or stay put." Doc inquired.

"If you can cover them, then leave, if not, stay put. Good?"

"Good." We all replied before breaking into our groups and proceeding to our entrances.

POV: Cameron Robertson, CODENAME: Ember

This mission was a stealth mission, as such, I had my Madsen MG on my back, while using my Hi-Power fitted with a suppressor until shit hit the fan.

We swiftly moved to our entrance and waited for Thatcher to give us the go signal.

" _All operators. Operation is GO._ " He said over our headsets.

Doc had already picked the lock while we were waiting for the go signal so all I did was slowly open the door and quickly take out the security camera watching the door. We entered the bottom of the South stairwell and I moved up to the doors to the cafeteria, where I found two White masks sitting on a bench, looking at a blueprint. I quietly opened the door, and let Ghost go past me, enabling her gadget, rendering her transparent, except for a slightly darker hue. I followed behind her, with Doc and Dokkaebi keeping their weapons on the Masks, while I crept up behind one, putting the barrel of my gun to the back of his head, before counting down with my fingers, and putting him into a chokehold, with an invisible Ghost using a knife to eliminate her White Mask. After ten seconds of struggling, the Mask tried to jerk himself free so hard, an audible 'crack' was heard and he instantly fell limp.

"Did he just…" I hear an invisible voice say.

"Yes, yes he did." I reply, leveling my gun on the hallway leading deeper inside the school.

We enter the hall, checking our corners, to our left are multiple sets of double doors leading into the main gym, and to our left is three doors, two being bathrooms, and one being the automotive workshop. I gesture for Ghost to give her a boost, so she could see through the glass above the doors leading to the gym.

She returns visible, putting her foot in my hand and being lift, and looking through the glass into the gym.

"Empty, but I can see multiple hostages in the room to the upper left." She states quietly.

"That's the weightlifting room." Dokkaebi says, looking at a miniature layout of the school on her phone.

We then change our attention to the automotive classroom. The light in the room are off, and after a quick check of the handle, the door is locked. "Doc, the door please." I say, stepping aside."

He moves into place, quickly picking the lock, before he stands back, with me opening the door and clearing my immediate right, before stepping forward, beginning to turn left when I get hit in the head with a hard object, knocking me out.

POV: Gustave Kateb, CODENAME: DOC

After seeing Ember get KOed, I quickly stepped forward, grabbing the large wrench, and pulling the attacker through the door, onto the floor where I put my gun to his head with my knee on his neck, while Ghost and Dokkaebi Began to clear the room.

After the rush wearing off, I saw that under my knee wasn't a white mask, but was a teenager.

"Vous êtes des Américains stupides et stupides." I say aloud before dragging the kid up and pushing him back into the automotive classroom, closing the door behind me.

"Automotive, welding, and a gym class are in here!" Olivia called out from across the room.

I check Ember's vitals before putting a bandage over the small cut caused by the attack.

"He okay?" The kid who hit him asked.

"He's fine, nice swing by the way, but next time, have a plan for more then one attacker." I say, taking out a small vial and cracking it open under Cameron's nose, and letting him breathe in the powder inside.

After a few seconds he jolted up, hand on his chest. "Do you come from a land down under?" He said, involuntarily singing the lyrics to his current song.

He quickly looked around, seeing the kid who knocked him out.

"Nice swing." He said putting his hand up and gently touching the growing bruise on his forehead. "That feels like a concussion."

"Have fun on leave after this." Dokkaebi said ushering students out the emergency exit, while Ghost watched the windows above them.

"I'll just play Battlefield 1 with Buck!" He replied dragging himself up.

"Why were all them still in here if there was an exit right there?" I ask, thinking he would know.

"Policy, Don't leave the room, turn off the lights, bar the doors, and in this case, grab a wrench!"


	7. Reunions (7)

**Reunions**

 _Same as Previous Chapter_

POV: Timur Glazkov, A.K.A Tim, CODENAME: GLAZ

Logan and I were using direct coms to communicate with each other from our vantage points, while I had a radio with the rest of the operators next to me.

"So, do you see anything from your view?" Logan asked over the coms.

"I have an excellent view of two science classrooms, and a partial view of the top floor hallway." I reply.

"I meant of any terrorists."

"Yep, I have three in each science classroom, and two that I can see in the hall, with another walking between other classrooms on the floor, I presume it to be one of the leaders."

"Okay, I see the pacer, he just stopped in one of the classrooms on this side, when we go loud, I'm taking him down."

"Good, try and look on the lower levels for any other commanders."

" _Glaz, Outback, this is Thatcher, come in._ " The radio next to me crackled.

"We're here," I reply with Logan.

"We have cleared the basement and administration hallway, proceeding to clear floor, with the others swinging around to clear the library from the other side."

"All right, we going loud?" Logan asks.

"Yep, we move on your mark."

"Still see that commander?" I ask Logan.

"Yep, I also found another on the floor below."

"Okay, I see the top floor now, on three take out the bottom floor."

"Roger"

"3. 2. 1. Fire." I countdown before squeezing the trigger and taking out the leader on the top floor.

"Got yours?" I ask.

"Yep, he isn't helping anymore."

Logan and I proceed to pick off any terrorists that come into our sights, I cleared the science classrooms, while Logan cleared what he could see on his side of the building.

"Okay, floor cleared, hostages coming out south-eastern exit." I hear Doc say over the radio and after a few seconds, see people rush out of the exit, and towards the police barricade.

"Any injured hostages?" I hear IQ ask over the radio to somebody else.

"Other then possible PTSD, none here." Ember replied. "We're moving to the southern stairwell, everyone else move, they know we're here now."

I watch as IQ, Sledge, and Fuze bolt down the hallway on the bottom floor towards the staircase on the other end, while on the top floor I see Ember kick in the door of one of the science rooms, before moving to the other one and setting up his MG with Dokkaebi following him.

POV: Grace Nam, CODENAME: DOKKAEBI

After Ember had set up his MG, I opened the door of the science classroom and let him unload rounds into the hallway. I quickly propped the door open, before moving next to him to feed him magazines.

Other then the 5 mags he kept on his vest, for this mission, he had a small backpack of 15 mags. He had previously set the backpack aside, and I opened it, taking out a magazine.

His MG clicked, signaling it was empty before he removed the mag, before taking the one I handed to him, loading it, pulling the bolt back, and continuing to unleash fury.

Suddenly, a terrorist jumped in front of the door, forgetting that Ember was still firing, and subsequently had his ankles blown off. I quickly finished him off with my rifle before the MG clicked dry again.

"Okay, let's clear the rooms." Ember said, moving to a crouched position after reloading the weapon again.

We moved into the hallway, me clearing left, and seeing Thatcher peaking around the corner watching the hallway.

Seeing us, he moved out of cover and proceeded up behind me.

"Only this hallway is yet to be cleared." He said, loading more shells into his shotgun. "Ember how in the name of the queen is that gun practical?" He questioned, looking at Ember's massive MG.

"It really isn't for close quarters, but when I have a nice hallway that I have to hold down, or a lot of enemies charging at me, It is excellent!" He replied, swapping with me for position on the corner of the wall.

Suddenly one of the doors of the classrooms was kicked out, and a terrorist was thrown into the hallway before being shot, with Sledge following her out.

Sledge gave a thumbs up before talking over the radio. "Only this science classroom is left." He said, gesturing to the door closest to us on the opposite wall.

"The rest of the hostages have to be in there." I say, moving up to breach the door with the rest of the operators behind us.

Ghost came around the corner in a rush, almost smacking into Ember.

"What's the rush?" He asks.

"None, I just want some action for once." She replied, stacking up on the door.

"Where's Doc?" Thatcher asked.

"Helping a hostage that definitely now has severe PTSD."

"Okay, let's let him do that." He said, reaching for the door handle.

He swung the door open and Sledge threw a flashbang, with Ember following it after it detonated.

POV: Cameron Robertson, CODENAME: Ember

I was expecting multiple things when I entered the classroom. The last terrorist calmly sitting at a table with various glass jars wasn't one of them.

"Ahh hold up!" He said as I entered the room.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because if I drop these, the room goes boom." He said holding up two beakers."

"Well, what's stopping me from getting the hostages out?" I replied lowering my gun to a resting position.

"Wait a minute, Is that you Cameron?" Somebody in the back of the room said.

"What?" I questioned.

"You don't remember me Cameron Robertson?" The person says again, standing up.

"Pelezo Ivy?" I say dumbfounded. (Pronounced Pu – lee – zoh)

"Wait, Pelezo, Cameron?" The terrorist asks, putting down the beakers and removing his mask.

"Shawn?" Both me and Pelezo say looking at the terrorist.

"Wait, wait wait wait wait wait." Ghost interrupted waiving her arms. "You three know each other?" She asks.

"Yea, we went to high school together!" Shawn said.

"But…"

"I lived in Florida for a few years." I inform.

"Okay, I surrender, I want to know how we all ended up in this room right now." Shawn said taking off all his military gear.

"So, I haven't seen you since, well, you know." I say becoming sad suddenly."

"Since when?" Dokkaebi asks as she is ushering hostages out of the room.

"Since his brother's funeral." Pelezo said from across the room.

Both Shawn and I send him a death glare before I walk over to Shawn, putting zip ties on him. "I thought you were in the air force!"

"I still am, just doing this on the side." He replies.

"What did your mother say about playing with international terror groups?"

"Okay, I believe in their visions, just not how they are getting there, I mean, what is taking a school hostage going to do except make the public hate us even more?"

"So Pelezo, how did you become a teacher in Mississippi?" I ask shifting my attention as I begin to walk Shawn out of the room.

"I followed where they would pay me the most!" He replied.

"Alright, I'll have a beer with you tonight. As for you Shawn, you get a one-way flight to England tomorrow!"

"Wait, what" He questioned

"You are complaining?" I ask sarcastically.

"No, I prefer a country without the death penalty, just why England?"

"It's where we're based mate!" Sledge says as he comes over to help me walk Shawn out. "There are probably news cameras outside, want a hood?" He asks, pulling a black bag out of his pocket.

"Yes please, don't need my face on international TV. Oh, I have an idea, drag me out backwards, like I'm not coming willingly, give yourself more credit."

"I see no issue with that." I say as Sledge slips the bag over Shawn's head.

"Want me to be yelling?" Shawn asks.

"Still know German?"

"Ja."

We then proceeded to drag Shawn out backwards towards one of our jeeps, perfectly in view of reporters and news cameras.

Shawn started yelling and kicking his feet a little for effect. "WO NEHMEN SIE MIR KAPITALISTISCHE SCHWEINHUNDE? DU KÜSTST DU! NICHT LÄSST MICH WIE EIN MANN, ICH HABE VENGEANCE! VENGEANCE ICH SAG IHNEN!"

Sledge and I then threw him into the back of a jeep, before getting in the front, and beginning the drive back to the military base.

"Can you take this off now?" Shawn asks.

"Nah, there is a news van following us." I say looking in the rearview mirror.

"What is it?" Seamus asked, with his gas mask now off.

"Looks like Fox News." I say, also removing my mask.

"Ohhh, can we please mess with them?" Shawn asks.

"How?"

"At the next light, if they pull up beside us, ask what they want. Mess with their heads."

"You Shawn are cruel. Oh, here comes a red light." I say returning my view in front of us.

At the light, as expected the van pulled up beside us, with a camera man filming us.

I rolled down the window and glared at them. To which they rolled down their window.

"What do ye want? We have orders to shoot anyone who follows us!" Seamus asked, letting his accent show."

"Hi Betty Caroline with Fox News, we were wondering what you could tell us about the man in the back?"

"Why are you assuming that they are a man?" I ask, looking back at the reporter.

"Well, uh…"

"Did she just assume my gender?" Shawn said in the back seat, his voice abnormally high pitched.

"Can you at least tell us what they are being charged with?"

"What were you thinking Seamus, I was thinking of taking him back to base and having a drink with him." I say looking over to Seamus.

"Nah, I was planning on driving him to the woods and shooting him like the feds told us to." He replied.

"I was planning on sitting here, picking my cuffs." Shawn said holding up his hands, now uncuffed.

"Re-cuff yourself!" I say as sternly as I can while trying not to laugh.

"Sure!" Shawn said, re-cuffing himself.

"Oh, and by the way, before you make assumptions like you always do." I say turning my attention back to the news crew. "He's white" I say lifting Shawn's hood enough so that you could see the skin on his neck.

"Seya ye fake news!" Seamus said, slamming on the gas as the light turned green.


	8. Pastimes (8)

_To respond to recent comments. I dunno, maybe, we will see where we go, again, always welcome fore recommendations! -The_ _Author_

 **Pastimes**

 _Hereford Base, One Week After Previous Mission_

POV: Miles Campbell, CODENAME: CASTLE

"É MELHOR NÃO!" Tiana yelled as she stared at the TV mounted on the wall in front of us.

Sebastien, Cameron, Tiana, and I were seated on one of the couches in the rec room, playing Mario Kart, to which Cameron was annihilating us at.

She dropped the remote after Cameron threw his green shell, hitting her, and causing her to finish in second place.

"You can't topple the king!" Cameron yelled, with all of us grunting, as he had done this multiple times already.

"Comment es-tu si bon à ça?" Sebastien asked Cameron, who was walking over to the bar in the corner.

"Unlike the other kids in school, I played videogames instead of doing sports." He replied as he opened the fridge. "Anybody want a drink?"

"Uh… There any orange juice in there?" I ask trying to scan the contents of the fridge from my distance.

"Yea, about half a gallon."

"Half and half it with some vodka please."

"I'll take one of those too." Sebastien added as he swapped the input on the TV over to the PS4 also hooked up.

"Alright, anything for you Tiana?" Cameron inquired as he grabbed a bottle of vodka from the freezer.

"I'll have one of those Sprites you had imported." She replied, carefully watching what game Sebastien picked.

"So, it's you who has been swiping them!"

"No…" She replied with a not so convincing face.

Cameron proceeded to take two glass bottles out of the fridge, picking up Sebastien and my drinks too.

"Merci." Sebastien said as he took one of the glasses from Cameron, before he moved over to let me take mine.

He then moved around the couch and sat down on the end, handing one of his glass bottles to Tiana.

"You do know that the cap is still on?" She questioned.

"I always forget one or two things." Cameron replied, taking the drink back and moving up and over to the metal coffee table in front of us.

He then, in one swift motion, took one of the bottles and placed the lid on the edge of the table, before striking his hand on the other, causing the cap to pop off the bottle and fly off into the other end of the room, before repeating the process with the other bottle.

He then returned to the couch, handing the bottle back to Tiana.

"This is good, what's the difference with the normal stuff?" She asked after taking a sip.

"Made in Mexico. Still use cane sugar instead of corn syrup. I would have got Coke too, but there are accusations that they still put cocaine in it." He replied before taking a drink.

Suddenly, all the phones on the table began to go crazy, everyone turned their attention to them, except Cameron, who was sitting still, slightly cringing.

"If that's Grace, I will go full Rambo." He said, pulling out an old-fashioned iPod and hooking his headphones into it.

"You have an iPod?" I ask, not seeing Grace's signature logo on the phones.

"You can't hack this baby." He said, before picking his phone and noticing something.

"What is it?" I ask, looking at my phone to see what he was looking at.

In the upper right corner of the screen, a small image could be seen. It was a black and white photo of three, about fifteen-year-old teenagers standing with Niagara Falls in the background.

With haste, Cameron stood, walking out of the room with a rushed pace.

POV: Cameron Robertson

 **Insert Song: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - Eurythmics**

 _Those morons, they gave him access to a computer? He'll have taken down the entirety of NORAD by the time I get there._

My rushed walk turned into a run as I ran down the hall and out the doors of the building, before making a beeline towards the administration building near the entrance of the base.

I barely missed being flattened by a truck, stumbling, but regaining my balance as I picked up the pace. I rounded the last corner to see what I expected. The administration, with the lights looking like a bloody disco. I ran up to the entrance, glancing at the sign with directions before skidding around a corner and down a flight of stairs into the basement. I glanced into the holding cell, finding it empty as expected. I proceeded around another corner, before pulling out my keycard and unlocking a door, pushing it open.

I entered the darkened room, already finding Mike, Seamus, and Grace.

"Ah Cameron what are y…" Seamus began before I cut him off.

Looking into the interrogation room and seeing Shawn seated at the table across from James, playing with Grace's laptop. "You gave him a computer!" I say half question, half complete and utter rage.

"Why not?" Grace asked, taking a picture of my face.

"First, Send that to me. Second, have you read his file? He can do things with computers like, I don't know… Make the lights go batshit crazy!" I say pointing out the open door at the lights in the hallway flickering on and off.

"But he doesn't have internet access." Mike pointed out.

I take a deep breath while rubbing my temple and leave the room proceeding to walk up to the door to interrogation, opening it, and sitting down next to Shawn.

"Please tell me you didn't pull another May 15th." I say, scanning the screen for any obvious computer hacking programs.

"No, I know what you will do if I did." He replied, showing me the code he was using.

After reading it, feeling relieved and leaned back in the chair. "Lights?"

Shawn typed a few lines into his prompter and the lights in the room returned to the normal brightness.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's a May 15th?" James asked.

"Shawn here decided he wanted to see the results to his finals before everyone else, so he hacked into the school district's servers, he got his mark, along with everyone else in the county, but when he was covering his tracks, he accidentally overloaded the server, causing a fire, and destroying all electronic information that the district had." I say, remembering when my class found out, and almost everybody – including the teacher - looked at Shawn.

"Okay, I'll take that back now." James said, slowly pulling the laptop towards him.

 _Meanwhile: Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, Outside the Royal BC Museum_

POV: Third Person

It is a nice partly cloudy day in Victoria, 17°C with a slight breeze off the strait. There is a small group of tourists waiting outside the entrance of the museum waiting for the next guided tour to start, off to the side an elderly man is seated on a bench, reading from a book.

From the sidewalk, another elderly man approaches the man.

"Ah Peter, I thought that you got lost this time." The seated man exclaimed when he saw the other approaching him.

"Charles, you know that I wouldn't miss this. The museum always loves us to present." Peter said as he walked up to Charles, who stood, embracing Peter in a hug.

"How's Anna?" Charles asked, releasing Peter from the hug, and began to proceed with him to the entrance of the museum.

"Sadly, she passed in February, but you know that she was always proud that we do these presentations." Peter replied, approaching the entrance, where a janitor held the door open door the two men.

"Chow, glad to see that you are here!" Peter said, recognizing the young man.

"You know I enjoy working here. History fascinates me." Chow replied, as out of the three men's view a delivery van pulled in front of the museum.

"Hey buddy, you can't park here." A patrol officer, ticketing a vehicle said to the driver of the truck.

"Sorry, just running a package in, no more then two minutes!" The man, visibly shaken said in a rush as he rounded the front of his truck, going to open the sliding door on the passenger side.

"You okay? You look shaken." The cop asked, noticing that something wasn't right with the man.

"No, no, everything is okay." The delivery man replied, fumbling with his keys.

"It's okay, you can tell me if something's wrong. Had a bad day? Messy breakup?" The cop asked, approaching the van as the driver unlocked the door on the side of the van.

"God forgive me." The driver mumbled as he slid the side door open.

"What?" The cop asked, before multiple people, all heavily armed, exited the van, one pistol whipping the truck driver, while another two aimed their weapons at the cop.

"Hey now, no need to be doing that fellas." The cop said, franticly pressing the panic button on the cuff of his uniform.

One of the assailants took the cop's utility belt and radio, while the other led him towards the entrance of the museum at gunpoint, where the crowd of tourists was already being herded inside.

One more assailant exited the van, obviously the leader, and began to walk towards the entrance of the museum, only to be stopped by an elderly man standing in the entrance, with another off to the side, being ushered out the door by a woman with a shotgun.

"Can you please leave old man?" The leader said, looking annoyed. "I do not want to have to order my men to drag you to the sidewalk."

"No." The man simply but firmly replied.

"Why?" The leader asked, brandishing his handgun.

"Because the last time I didn't do anything, I spent two years in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp before he liberated me." The man replied, nodding at the other elderly man, and pulling his sleeve up, moving to a fighting stance.

The man could now visibly see that the man had a tattoo on his forearm and began to feel sympathy for the man.

"You two." He said at two assailants guarding the doors. "Please carefully escort these two men to the sidewalk, and if they return, escort them back to the sidewalk. If you harm them, I will shoot you myself


	9. Overlord (9)

**Overlord**

 _CFB Victoria, 1320 Hours_

POV: Henry Jacobs, RCMP Negotiator

I had been called in almost immediately, having over two decades under my belt as a negotiator. The situation was a status quo, the suspected terrorists not provoking us, and us not provoking them. Our snipers couldn't see anything useful, the terrorists either abandoning a room or blocking the windows. Team Rainbow had been called at noon, with them arriving sometime around five. I was preparing to approach the building, to see if the terrorists wanted anything, they had already allowed several hostages to leave, all either elderly, or children with their parents, we suspected this was either a show of good will, or that they only wanted certain people as hostages.

"Jacobs, you ready?" A voice behind me questions.

"Almost, just have to do something really quick." I reply, returning from my thoughts.

I proceed to pick several things up from the table beside me: A radio, so I can communicate with everyone. A notepad, to record any demands they may have, and a small folded piece of paper, a good luck charm, got it from a five-year-old at a hostage negotiation over a decade ago, anytime I had this in the pocket over my heart, everything went smoothly.

I step back from the table, turning to a suitcase containing my vest, and putting the vest on, exiting the tent as I fastened the straps.

"Okay, move the barricade." I hear one somebody say, ordering two officers to make a gap in the barricade on the sidewalk that we were behind.

I squeezed through the barricade and made my way up the cobblestone pathway to the main entrance, where three guards were posted. They watched me carefully, checking to see if my hands were going for a concealed gun, or if I was going to make a mad dash for them. This didn't happen naturally, so I proceeded up the path until I was about ten feet from the doors.

"Alright, that is good." The apparent leader said, readjusting his grip on his rifle for effect. "Lift up your shirt and spin."

I obliged, lifting my shirt, and slowly spinning, showing that I didn't have any weapons.

He nodded, telling me to speak.

"Would like to know if you would have any demands."

"All we request is that you stay away from the building." He replied swiftly.

"Any particular reason for doing this?"

"We are robbing the museum."

"Oh." I replied, surprised at his honesty. "Well how many hostages do you have?"

"At this present moment…" He began, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Thirty-seven."

"Alright, how did you get the weapons into the country?" I ask spying the military grade weaponry.

"Easily, please leave."

I turned around and walked back down the walkway.

"Where is Team Rainbow?" I said to myself.

 _Hereford Base, England_

POV: Maxim Basuda, Codename: Kapkan

I along with Gilles (Montagne) and Monika had been given the excellent task of orientating the two newest recruits while most of the other operators were sent to Victoria for a hostage situation.

I say excellent in the most sarcastic form possible, as orientation is (to me) the most boring thing you could do, we were finished with the tour, and now it was time where we would usually introduce the newbies to everyone, but everyone was in Victoria.

"So, what should we do?" Monika asked, pulling out her phone to see if see if she could find anything.

"I know where most of everyone still here is." Gilles said from behind us.

"How? We just saw everywhere." Oliver (Lion) one of the newbies asked.

"Not everywhere." I pipe up, knowing where they are referring to.

I lead the small group through the building and out one of the side exits, rounding the back of the building and approaching a stairwell leading down to the basement. As we approached, we could hear music and visibly see small rocks vibrating to the beat.

I descended the stairwell, and unlocked the door, bracing for the coming hit to my ears.

 **Insert Song – T.N.T – AC/DC**

We entered the room, seeing a quite weird scene. Logan, Tim, and Cameron were all seated in chairs, watching Grace and the white mask Shawn hanging upside down from the ceiling, one arm tied behind each of their backs, and them both typing into computers, lines of code flying across the screens.

We stood there, taking in the scene for a few seconds, before Shawn typed a final line into his computer, and the screen lighting up, with both Logan and Tim passing money to Cameron.

Cameron finally noticed us, turning down the music.

"Oh, hi guys, these the newbies?" He asked nonchalantly.

"We're doing good." Monika replied.

"Why are they hanging from the ceiling?" Lera (Finka) the other newbie asked.

"We're having a competition, but he keeps winning, so we put more handicaps on him, but she also want's the handicaps so it's not unfair." Grace answered, with Logan unbinding her hand.

"Just concede defeat." Shawn replied, with Cameron simply taking out a knife and cutting the rope holding him to the ceiling, causing him to drop like a sack of potatoes. "The hell man?" Shawn asked, with Cameron cutting his bindings."

"You're still a prisoner, so I have to be rough with you, it's in the handbook." Cameron replied, now cuffing Shawn to a waterpipe.

"No it's no…" Logan began before being cut short by Tim putting a hand over his mouth.

"So, what was the challenge?" I ask.

"Hack into NORAD." Shawn replied, rubbing his back.

"What?"

"Not that NORAD, a different NORAD, it's a political party somewhere in the world, they wouldn't tell me where." Cameron replied, pocketing his earnings.

"So, want lunch?"

"Sure." Cameron replied, before both his and Gilles' phone went off.

"Holy shit." They said almost at the same time.

"What?" Monika asked, a sense of worry in her voice.

"We just got a new operator." Gilles responded.

"Who?" I ask.

"Codenamed Overlord." Cameron said.

"WHO?" Everyone in the room demanded.

Cameron and Gilles responding by simply pointing at Shawn.

"Oh, did I forget to mention that they offered me a job?" Shawn said innocently.

 _Sorry for the somewhat short chapter, but I am currently sick and still wanted to get a chapter out sometime this week, so hope it was good. – The Author_


	10. Paintball (10)

**Paintball**

 _London, England 0819 Hours_

POV: Grace Nam

"Paintball?" Cameron asked as we pulled up to the large warehouse.

"Didn't we tell you?" Dominic said, turning the truck off.

"I may have zoned out for 90 % of the trip." He replied exiting the vehicle and stretching.

"It doesn't help that you are listing to that music so loud that I could hear it in the very back." Olivier said as he took two cases from the trunk.

"Okay, enlighten me, why are the four of us at a paintball place in London?" Cameron said, grabbing another case.

"Mike decided we should boost our public image by coming here and playing paintball with the locals." Dominic said, taking the cases from Olivier, and handing mine to me.

"So, we are going to be target practice for a bunch of high schoolers for the rest of the day?"

"Sadly." Both Olivier and I replied.

"I want to absolutely decimate a group of them before the end of the day."

"I second that." Dominic said as he locked the truck.

Cameron approached the entrance to the building, opening it for us as looked like he was preparing himself mentally for the day.

I entered the building first and approached a counter to my left, where a woman in her early twenties was seated, scrolling on her phone.

"Excuse me." I asked politely as I set my case down on the floor.

"Yea what can I do you fo…" She began to reply before she saw my face. "Aren't you…"

"Yes." Both Cameron and Dominic said before she could finish her question.

"Like to speak to Philip please." Dominic said over my shoulder.

"Hey Philip!" She yelled up in the air to nobody in particular.

"Yea?" Came a yell from somewhere in the building.

"Got some folks that would like to see ye!"

"If it's Rainbow Six, then just send them on in!"

"Okay, guess you can go on in." She said to us.

"Thank you." I said warmly as I picked up my case and followed Dominic around a corner and into a small waiting area with a glass wall viewing the center of the building, with several wooden structures, all coated in large splotches of neon paint.

A middle-aged man was in the main area, standing on a stepladder, repairing a hole in a safety net.

"Come in!" He yelled to us when he saw us standing in the waiting area.

We set our cases on a table in the corner of the room, before passing through a door into the main area, and approached the man.

He finished sewing the line he was on before he set the needle and thread down, and stepped off the ladder, and extended an arm to each of us.

"Philip Rogers, current owner of this arena." He said as he shook Cameron's hand.

"So, when do we get to destroy some paintballers?" Dominic said as he shook the man's hand.

"We officially open at 8:30, and people usually begin to show up around nine, so expect the first match around 9:15."

"How many people are expected?"

"Average day is about a hundred, but with you here I expect a lot more."

"So, any rules that we should follow?" I ask.

"There is a board over there, just follow them and you'll be fine." He said pointing at a sign mounted in the waiting area.

"No full auto?" Dominic sighed.

"Did all of you bring automatic weapons?"

"No, I brought a shotgun." Cameron piped up.

"I am not going to interfere too much, but one thing, please don't seriously injure anyone."

 _1 hour, 30 minutes later._

POV: Dominic Brunsmeier

Olivier, Cameron, and I sat down on a bench in one of the locker rooms of the paintball place, all coated in multicoloured neon paint.

To be fair to everyone, the three of us had agreed to keep our weapons unloaded for the first half of the day, and had such, had established a routine of running out, being lit up, and returning.

Olivier slumped against the wall, mockingly making a gun out of his hand, and metaphorically shooting himself.

"Trust me, it's not worth it." Cameron said, removing his upper body padding, and massaging his right shoulder.

I looked at Cameron with concern over what he had said, making a mental note to ask him about it later.

Then Grace leaned in through the door to the room. "Hey, I've decided we're going to do a little Q and A, so get back out here." She said, wiping some paint off her helmet.

"Is it too early to start drinking?" Cameron asked.

"It's ten in the morning." I inform, looking at my watch.

"Perfect timing." He replied, reaching over to his bag, taking out a bottle of whiskey, and taking a quick sip before recapping the bottle, returning it to his bag.

"As the Americans say, we better go hear the music." Olivier says, standing up.

"Face the music, the term is 'Go face the music'." Cameron said, slapping himself before getting up.

 **Insert Ambient Music: Rock You Like A Hurricane - Scorpions**

We exit the locker room, where about fifty people were in the arena, waiting in front of one of the towers that the refs stood to monitor the game, we proceeded to the tower, climbing the ladder and Cameron addressing the crowd.

"Hello peasants!" He said, presenting himself like a king, earning a slap over the back of the head from both Grace and me.

"Ignore him, hello everyone, I believe there is no need for introductions, so any questions?" I announce.

"WHAT is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?" Somebody instantly blurted out.

"African or European swallow?" Both Cameron and Olivier replied, them high-fiving each other afterword's.

"Okay, any questions that are not from Monty Python?" I ask, several people putting raised arms down.

"What made you want to join Rainbow?" Somebody yelled.

"I did it for personal reasons. You guys?" I say turning to the others.

"So I could be better." Olivier stated.

"Officers encouraged me to." Grace said.

"They offered me a ton of money." Cameron said. "Just kidding, it was mainly a bet… No, I did it because It was more a better option then sitting in a chemistry lab for the rest of my career."

"Okay… Next?" I say selecting a random person from the crowd.

"Why haven't you hit anything all morning?"

"Because our weapons are unloaded." I say, removing the magazine from my pistol and showing it to the crowd.

"Load it then! We want a challenge!" Somebody else yelled, with roars of approval following.

In response, Cameron stepped forward, loading shells into a bullpup sawed-off Mossberg 930 he borrowed from the armory back at base. "Do you want to play a game?"


	11. Flying High (11)

_I'M BACK! IT ONLY TOOK *Takes calendar off wall* A FEW MONTHS. No in all seriousness, recently I have hit a lot of time constraints, Midterms, major projects, I shit you not: a broken leg, and a few other things. ANYWAYS after long anticipation that I may or may not have been dead. THE NEW CHAPTER! – The (Not Deceased) Author!_

 **Flying High**

 _Somewhere Over Eastern Panama, 0500 Hrs_

POV: Cameron Robertson

"So, they're approaching the compound right now?" Shawn says, keeping us in a steady orbit around a large campground a kilometer below us, as I look down at it with a ball camera mounted to the bottom of the Cesena Shawn had requested.

Inside the Cesena was Shawn and I, and two newbies: Adriano (Maestro) and Aria (Alibi) who were going to paradrop into the compound when shit kicked off, with me following if needed.

"Yep, I can see the trucks barreling through the jungle." I say, watching the screen in front of me, showing two trucks speeding towards the campground, ready to unleash fury.

"When are we jumping?" Alibi askes from the back of the plane, checking her weapon.

"As soon as the rest of the operators reach the compound." Shawn says, bringing the plane around for another pass.

"Oh I am so ready fo…" Maestro begins before Shawn cuts him off.

"SAM MISSILE, BAIL NOW! BAIL!" He yells, warning lights screaming across the control board.

" _Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me._ " I mutter under my breath, grabbing onto the frame of the plane because I am not prepared to bail out.

"You're religious now?" Shawn says as I see Alibi jump out of the plane.

" _ela alrghm min 'anani 'amshi fi wadi zili almawt , fa'ana la 'akhaf alshara , li'anak maei ; qadibik wamuazifuk , yaezunani._ " I continue.

"Is that Arabic?" Shawn asks, turning sharply to the left.

"There are multiple religions! If I die, I want to be at peace with as many as possible!" I yell, seeing Maestro strapping himself in with as many belts as possible, probably because he is unable to bail.

After several sharp maneuvers, the dashboard dies down, signaling we are safe.

"Thank fuck." I hear Shawn say under his breath before a large explosion rocks the aircraft.

"What was that!" Maestro yells.

"I have no turning capabilities." Shawn says, trying to steer the plane.

"How about vertical?" I ask.

"I have them under control." Shawn says after wiggling the airplane.

"So, are we going to die?" Maestro asks.

"Good news: No. Bad News: We are headed south-west and have not much time until we are over the Pacific, so we vote now. Do we stay in the plane or bail?"

I look out the window only to see dense jungle with no sight of the compound.

"I say we stay in the plane until we reach the coast, then bail out." I say weighing our options.

"I agree with Ember. There is no way we can be found in the dense jungle; the coast is the best option."

"Alright." Shawn says picking up the radio. "Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is Rainbow Air Vehicle H4, we have been struck by a surface to air missile and have not control over our turning capabilities. We are currently over the Darién Gap and are on a course bearing 236. Our intentions are to bail once we reach the coast for ease of rescue. Please confirm your understanding. Over."

"Affirmative Rainbow Air Vehicle H4, please inform of us of your last coordinates before you ditch the aircraft. Over." The radio crackles back.

"Understood. Out." Shawn replied.

After a few minutes of prep and waiting I see the Pacific emerge into the early morning.

"Alight, Cameron, my man, what are our cords?" Shawn says, twitching our emergency beacon off before back on, signaling it wouldn't be on for long.

"7°46'47.0"N 78°18'05.1"W" I say, proceeding to do a final check on my gear.

I hear Shawn relay the coordinates over the radio, before he switches the radio off.

"Alright, everyone good?" Shawn asks. To which we nod. "When you're out of the plane, get away from it, when I bail, I'm going to pitch it down so that the final location for the tracker will be close to us."

I then see Shawn put in wireless earbuds, before he shows me his song so I can hear it too.

 **Insert Song – Winged Hussars – Sabaton**

I strap my phone into my suit, zipping it up, before opening my door and counting down with my fingers to Maestro, before we bail from the plane.

I instantly spread my arms out, increasing my wind resistance before pulling the cord on my chute, hearing it open above me.

I look back towards the plane, seeing Shawn bail out, with the plane's nose pitching down and it beginning a spiral.

I slowly drift towards Maestro, who is about 50 meters to my left and we procced towards Shawn, who is about 300 meters in front of us.

After slowly gliding down for about five minutes, I prepare to land. I hit the ground roughly, landing in the soft sand of a beach.

I quickly roll up my parachute, saving it incase we need to make shelter. I look around me, finding Maestro had landed behind me in the shallow water, but I couldn't find Shawn.

I take out one of my earbuds, only to begin hearing a stream of profanities and swearing coming from somewhere to my left. I scan the tree line, finding Shawn hanging 10 meters off the ground with his chute stuck in a palm tree.

After setting out gear down, and taking Shawn's gear from him, Maestro and I begin to figure out how to safely get Shawn out of the tree.

"Okay…" Adriano says, beginning to think aloud. "In Italia, the way we tended to deal with this is to get a ladder."

"In Canada, we throw 'em a knife and make them cut themselves down." I reply, kicking the tree to test its stability.

"In America, YOU HELP THE GUY DOWN!" Shawn says, dramatically waving his arms.

"Okay, okay, In all seriousness, could you take the fall with little to no injury?" Adriano says.

"Try dropping a rock in the sand, if it sinks a bit, he should be fine." I say, pointing to several moderately sized rocks nearby.

Adriano goes over and pick up a fair-sized rock, before tossing it up in the air. It hits the sand with a thwack, sinking a few centimeters.

"Ehhhh….." I say, judging whether the drop is safe.

"Oh, screw this." Shawn says, tossing Adriano his sidearm, before releasing himself from his harness.

He hits the ground with a scream, holding his left leg.

"Is it broken?" I ask, grabbing two flasks from my bag.

"Nope, gust looks like a sprained ankle." Adriano says, inspecting Shawn's leg.

"Okay Shawn, pick wisely. Whiskey or Melatonin?" I say holding the two flasks up.

"Whatever will dull the damn pain quicker." He says, clenching his ankle still while Adriano duct tapes a stick to it, to keep it still.

I toss him the Whiskey flask, before taking a swig of the other.

"Why do you have Melatonin in your bag?" Adriano questions.

"Sleeping problems, also use it after things that get my adrenaline extremely high to drop it down. I have multiple mental disorders that have some good effects but also some bad ones when my mind is racing." I reply, laying one of our parachutes on the sand so we have something clean to lie on.

"Ah, anyways, how long do you think we'll be here?" He replies, grabbing some driftwood off the beach so we can start a small fire.

"Eh… We gave them our coordinates, but only way here is by heli or boat, so I'd give them a good two or three hours." I say, walking over to the tree Shawn was stuck in. "Anyone want coconut?"

"I want one from that damn tree, seeing as I was stuck in it." Shawn says, laying down on the parachute.

I take off all my excess gear, leaving me in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, before I take a hatchet from my gear and begin using it as an ice pick to scale the tree.

Once I reach the top, I take the hatchet and swing at the branch holding five or six coconuts, taking them down after three hits.

I then drop the axe before sliding down the tree.

"Bon apatite." I say, cracking the coconuts open and tossing one to Shawn and Adriano.

"This isn't that bad." Shawn says. "Think they'll give me another plane?"

"If Aria is all right, then I see no reason why they wouldn't, all of us are alive, with the only loss being the plane itself."

"Agreed."


	12. Dancing on Fire (12)

**Dancing on Fire**

 _Barú, Cartagena Province, Bolivar, Colombia_

POV: Robertson, Cameron

"You know the saying 'Out of sight, Out of mind?'" Elena said from the passenger side of our 1985 CJ7 Jeep.

"Yep." I said, flashing my ID to a guard carrying an AK-47.

"Good." She said as the bar gate in front of us is raised and I roll into the heavily fortified resort.

This place is usually a typical tourist trap, you know, overpriced everything, but now it was a temporary fortress as from the info gathered in the Panama raid a few weeks ago, several high ranking drug lords are meeting here for an apparent division of all drug tariffing throughout the Americas, Elena was disguised as one of the high ranking guests, who had 'accidentally' fallen into Columbian police, but was reported escaped. Taina was also here, posing as a bodyguard along with me who, out of everyone who could have gone, they chose the Canadian who doesn't know basic Spanish.

"Why did they choose me?" I ask again, adjusting my sunglasses.

"Because you are the only person here without a distinguishable accent that has had undercover experience." Taina says from behind me.

"I still find that, out of all of us, only four or five of us have gone undercover. You don't even have undercover experience."

"Yea, but I am the only one who fully fit my disguise." Elena says.

I pull in front of the main entrance of the hotel, getting out and tossing the keys to a waiting valet.

I adjust my suit while waiting for Elena and Taina, pushing my Panama hat slightly back so I can scratch my forehead.

Once I see Elena pass me, I begin to walk forward, staying a few feet back, as I had observed from the various other bodyguards here.

We enter the hotel, and find ourselves in a spacious ballroom, with a large poker table in the center with most of the drug lords that we were expected to find here.

Our mission was simple, collect all of the information we needed for the rest of the team to effectively storm the compound and take the drug lords alive.

"Ah, Maria! los rumores son ciertos, ¡te escapaste de la prisión!" I hear from the table in front of us, seeing everyone in the room turn towards us.

"Sí, de hecho lo son, no fue tan difícil, solo sobornó a unos cuantos guardias y se fue." Elena replies, walking up to the table and taking the final empty seat, while Taina and I stay behind her, sitting on a sofa like various others in the room.

"Hey, give me brief translations of anything major." I say quietly, getting a nod in reply from Taina.

"Nuevos guardaespaldas que veo, ¿dónde los conseguiste esta vez?" Another one of the lords says, nodding towards Taina and I.

"Just asking about the new bodyguards." Taina translates.

"Oh, gracias por darte cuenta. desafortunadamente, uno de ellos es parcialmente mudo, solo habla en lenguaje de señas a lo largo de las distancias." Elena says, smiling.

"She said you are mute, only use sign language."

"¿Qué tipo de lenguaje de señas?" Someone else says.

"Norteamericana" Elena replies.

The lord who asked the question turns to me and begins signing.

 _Is she bluffing?_

I see where this is going and reply.

 _Nope, lost the ability to speak when a grenade went off too close to me. Lived, but can't talk loudly._

"Por Dios, si realmente tomó una granada para uno de sus empleadores, debes pagarle un dólar alto."

"De hecho, ¿podemos volver a la tarea que nos ocupa?" Elena replies before the group at the table goes back to the game.

"You know sign language?" Taina asks.

"Yep, for a little bit doctors thought I would go deaf from the accident, had me learn sign language as a precaution." I reply, before leaning back into the sofa.

 _Several Hours Later_

"Are we ready to call in the others?" I ask, watching the table in the pavilion below us, where the drug lords and Elena are eating a lavish dinner.

"Almost, we have got the locations of the security room and armory, we just need to isolate the majority of the guards." Taina replied, leaning against the railing separating us from the pavilion below.

"I have an idea, let me just tell Elena we are going to be absent for a second."

I snap my fingers, catching the attention of several people below.

 _Going for dinner, will return in about 15 minutes, we believe you are well protected._

Elena sees this and nods, waving us off before returning to the group.

"Didn't know she knew sign language." I say as we begin to walk down the corridor, towards where the armory was.

"Neither did I." Taina says following me as we snake through the hotel, avoiding the other guards, making it to the armory.

"Knock on the door, ask for bullets." I say, stepping out of view of the door and begin to screw a suppressor onto my Hi-Power.

Taina knocks, waiting a few seconds before the door cracks open, showing a young man wearing a bulletproof vest.

"Necesito algunas balas de repuesto, el jefe dice que será un mal viaje de regreso a su propiedad." She says, allowing the sentry to open the door slightly wider.

I swing into view, pointing my pistol between the sentry's eyes, causing him to stop dead.

I motion with the gun for him to put his hands up and turn around, to which he happily complies.

I step into the room, butting him in the side of the head with my free hand, causing him to fall to the ground unconscious.

Taina steps into the room and closes the door behind us while I cuff the sentry's hands around a grate in the floor.

"Start shoving ammo in the bags." I say, grabbing a few burlap bags from a nearby table and tossing several to Taina.

After we fill several large bags with ammo, I slip out of the room and get a box of newspapers from a trolley left unattended before returning to the armory.

I motion for Taina to follow me, and we proceed to a small field out of view of the compound, dumping all the ammo in a large pile on top of the stolen newspaper and dousing it in a bottle of liquor I borrowed from a buffet table.

"When I light this, we will have at least a minute to get back to the pavilion, when everyone goes crazy, signal everyone else to get here fast. Are we going to stay or leave?"

"Far too dangerous for us to stay, do you know where the Jeep is?" She asks, beginning to jog away.

"We will find out." I say, lighting a strip of newspaper and running.

POV: Baker, Mike

"We going soon?" Grace asks, visibly bored. Everyone was, we have been waiting in our advanced positions for several hours now, we knew everything was fine, because Cameron and Taina were giving regular updates.

"MIKE!" The radio suddenly blasts with Cameron's voice urgent but not panicked.

"Yes?" I quickly reply.

"I torched a pile of ammo, when you start hearing it, go all in. We are going to leg it ASAP, because we are under armed and outnumbered." He replies, sounding ecstatic.

"Everyone ready up!" I yell to everyone here, before sending the ready signal over the radio.

After a few seconds, I begin to hear what sounds like gunfire, but it is echoing. Gunfire doesn't echo.

"WE ARE GO, GO, GO!" I yell over the radio before following Grace over the small ridge we had camped on and begin running through the light forest to the outer checkpoint.

I hear several quick gunshots, followed by the guards at the checkpoint falling dead.

Down the road I see a red Jeep tearing down the road, closely pursued by several vehicles, all exchanging gunfire with the Jeep.

I run to the edge of the forest, waiting for the Jeep to be able to see me before beginning to run parallel to it, before closing the gap and throwing myself into the backseat.

"Afternoon Mike." I hear Taina say beside me, firing her pistol behind us, landing a few shots on the closest vehicle's hood.

From the front seat I see Elena holding on for dear life while Cameron drives like he is from Mad Max, almost rolling us as he tears onto a paved road and begins upshifting. All while I can audibly hear 'Rio' by Duran Duran blasting from his headphones.

POV: Robertson, Cameron

 **Insert Song: Rio – Duran Duran – (Start about halfway through the song)**

I now knew why they chose me for this mission. I was by far the best combat driver here, as I weave in and out of the light traffic all while completely absentminded of occasional bullet that tears by my head and leaves a hole in the windshield.

"Cameron!" I barely hear over the music, and more so the wind.

I glance to the passenger seat. Seeing Elena holding up a tablet, showing Google Maps to where we needed to go. I make a mental picture of the map and shift into 5th gear, almost unheard of on a Jeep and scream past around a corner, barely dodging a pickup truck.

After several minutes of the high-speed chase, I see our destination – A Columbian military outpost, that had been set up for the odd event that the operation was a critical failure and the military had to go in and clean up the mess.

I drift the Jeep around the final corner, stopping inside the outpost's entrance and taking a rifle tossed to me from a waiting soldier. Aiming at the only vehicle that managed to follow us here.

I let off three shots, hitting all the tires visible to me before aiming square at the driver's head, again, motioning for him to put his hands up.

The Driver – stupidly – raises his handgun, being shot a dozen times before he even pulled the trigger. The passenger however, tosses his gun out the window, raising his hands in defeat.

"That went quite well." Mike says, lighting a cigar he got from one of the soldiers.

"That's probably weed." Taina whispers in my ear.

"Uh, Mike?" I say cautiously.

"Yea?" He says, taking the cigar out and holding it up.

"Hand me the cigar for a sec."

He hands it to me and I smell it before dropping it and crushing it under my heel.

"Why'd you do that?" He asks, defeated.

"I just saved you from he next random drug screening." I say, pulling out a flask and taking a swig of melatonin, instantly feeling my adrenaline dropping a bit.

"Let's go get some tequila." I say, handing the rifle back to a soldier.


	13. A Break (13)

_I'm aiming for a record folks, I've chugged a 12 pack of Mountain Dew Voltage, and I'm going for the longest chapter I've ever done, lets do this. - The 'Soon to Sugar Crash' Author_

 _Auckland, New Zealand_

POV: Cameron Robertson

 **Insert Song: Phil Collins - I Don't Care Anymore**

I was suddenly awakened by icy cold water hitting me in the face.

"THREE SECONDS TO RUN!" I say, dragging myself to my feet and beginning to chase after Logan, who I catch up to and drag into the surf of the South Pacific Ocean.

I walk back over to the beach chair I was in and sit down, taking a towel and drying off my face.

"That was a bit excessive." Shawn says, seated next to me, reading 'The Rise and Fall of The Third Reich'.

"Says the one who broke my nose for tripping him."

"You know I had a good chance of getting that date!"

"You really didn't."

In the background I can hear someone walking up.

"I deserved that." Logan says, walking past me towards the resort.

"You did. Hey, Olivia back from meeting her parents yet?" I ask.

"Nope, she said to just scratch her name off the list for dinner if she doesn't get back in time because she may stay for dinner."

"Why did you wake me up?"

"Grace paid me 30 bucks."

I look over my sholder and see a few of the other operators that are on vacation seated on a padio, with Grace and Olivier watching us. I casually flip them off before returning to try and rest.

"You know it's scary how much you could copy from this book and you'd have Trump's presidential campaign."

"He used the fear of terrorism to his advantage, doesn't help that he is an excellent business man." I say, glancing at Shawn pointing at a timeline in the book.

"Don't worry, according to this, we only need to wait for him to declare war on a country with harsh winters."

"O Canada." I say, drifting to sleep.

 _A few hours later._

"What's on the menu?" I ask, rubbing my eyes as I had been awakened by the ongoing dinner.

"Kiwi." Logan says, holding up a plate of meat.

"We're eating those adorable birds?"

"No, the fruit, this is pork." He says, pointing at a buffet where a selection of fruits are arranged in an elaborate pattern.

"Where's the meat?" I ask, picking up an entire tray of watermelon.

"Barbie is over there." He says, pointing at a Maori man standing over a large wood grill.

"Barbie as in the slang or is that his name?"

"Slang, I have no clue how to pronounce his name." He says before walking over to a large table with the other operators.

"Hello." I say walking up to the bbq.

"Good evening, what would you like?" The man says with a smile.

"What would you recommend?"

"Ah, if you give me five minutes I can give you some crab you will never forget."

"I'm not a crab person, but I'm always one to try new things."

"Alright."

"So... How do you get those face tattoos?"

"Traditional method."

"That must have hurt."

"Oh it did, but it was my choice, looking back on it, it was not that bad. Nowadays people will get them done with modern tools, only the very brave will do it the old way."

"Is that culturally allowed?"

"Yes, we adapted to the European way of living in many ways, and they have alowed us to keep our traditions, and we have modernized where we should."

"Wish I could tell you that my government did the same."

"American?"

"Canadian."

"Ah, the residential schools."

"Yep, and we have only begun to apologize for that."

"Progress is progress. Anyways here is your crab."

"This looks delicious."

"I hope it is, nice talking."

"You too."

I take the crab dish and proceed over to the table, sitting between Olivier and Logan.

"That looks good." Olivier says, eyeing my plate. "Thats a lot of watermelon."

"1. Mine, 2. There is no such thing as too much watermelon."

I proceed to take some of the crab and begin to eat.

"Holy shit." I say, savoring the crab.

"Bad?"

"Complete opposite, this is single-handedly the best seafood dish I have ever had."

"Congratulations."

I tune them out as I continue to eat the crab.

POV: Olivia Chow

"So there I was, Cameron with a gun to head, no clear shot, I have no clue what to do, I am just aiming at the two of them panicking, so fast as lightning, Cameron stomps on the guys foot, grabs his gun and elbows him between the legs." Shawn rambles off, only pausing to take a sip of his whiskey as I walk in.

"Really?" I say sarcastically."

"Oh hey Olivia, we thought you wouldn't be back."

"Family and I had dinner, said my goodbyes for the night, traffic was lighter then expected."

"That's nice, anyways, where was I?"

"Cameron elbowing the terrorist." Grace points out.

"Yea, so he secures the guy, and proceeds to slap me when I was still frozen in shock."

"How is he so calm in situations like that?"

"I would say, but I don't have an exact answer."

"Hey Cameron!"

"Yea?" Came a yell from down the table.

"Why are you so calm all the time?"

"High functioning depression my friend, a gift and a curse. Guess it's the side effect of being on the spectrum, being in this line of work, and slight PTSD from the accident."

"And how do you keep it under control?"

"Three things. Medicine, a therapist, and the ability to make dark humor out of anything."

"But you arn't dark humorous."

"Because I haven't said any of the jokes out loud since the Vancouver Olympics."

"Good tactic."

 _The Next Day_

POV: Shawn Hagler

I am now sure I am one of the only sane people here.

 _The night before._

"GUYS! MY CRATE ARIVED!" Cameron yelled from the padio, looking down at us on the beach.

"Oh god." I say, preparing.

"What?" Olivia questions.

"Not saying, but you will find out soon enough."

 _30 minutes later._

" _Hey, sha-shawn, did I ever tell you how I got these scars?_ " An incredibly drunk Cameron questions, pointing to his left knee.

"Yes."

" _Really? Hey Sébastien! How's it going?_ " He continues yelling at Sébastien, who is passed out on the bar, surrounded by empty Crown Royal whiskey bottles.

I take this opportunity to put this to an end before Cameron dies from alcohol poisoning. I stand up, and use the 'Vulcan' death grip on him, which is actually just jamming your fingers in the pressure points of the neck, before pitting him in a soft choke hold, not enough to strangle him, but cutting off enough air to knock him out.

After Cameron is KOed, I scan the room finding only Grace and Olivia drunk, with Olivia still holding the drink she poured a half hour ago, and Grace having not drank anything.

I stand, grabbing Cameron's hands and beginning to drag him back to his room, where I would probably spend the night, making sure he didn't choke to death on his own vomit.

"He finally passed out?" Grace asks, pushing Logan into the hotel, where he proceeds to fall flat on his face and begin to snore.

"Not on his own accord." I say, lightly shaking Logan, waking him, proceeding to guide him back to his room.

POV: Olivia Chow

"That was entertaining." I say to Grace, trying to waking Sébastien up.

"It was, it's not every day that someone has a crate fulled with whiskey shipped here. It's still half full!" She replies, pointing a opened wooden crate while throwing a blanket over Olivier, who was out cold.

"Should we even bother with the others?"

"Just throw blankets over them, I'm going to bed."

 _A few hours later._

POV: Shawn Hagler

I look over at the clock, which reads 1:29 in the morning.

I turn to Cameron, still in the recovery position, where I left him when I draged him back. He seems like he's waking up, as his snoring has stopped.

"Shawn?" I hear, seeing Cameron looking at me, confused.

"You blacked out, I dragged you back here, made sure you didn't choke to death on your own vomit."

"And there's the headache." He says, bagging his head into the bed.

"I'll leave you to your problems, I haven't slept in 24 hours." I say, walking out of the room.

 _Seven hours later._

I close my hotel door behind me and walk back out to the padio, finding most of the operators gone, presumably having gone to their rooms, with Sébastien still out. cold on the bar, with Grace seated next to him, waving a pot of coffee above his nose.

"I'll take some of that." I say, grabbing one of the empty whiskey bottles and handing it to Grace.

"Can you check his pulse?" She replies, filling the bottle.

I grab his arm and check the pulse, finding it easily.

"He's fine." I say, taking the bottle back and taking a swig.

"You sleep?" I ask, noticing bags under her eyes.

"Nah, just threw a blanket over everyone left here then went skinny dipping."

"Lucky. I watched Cameron to make sure he didn't die after he chugged two bottles.

"You could say that, I was catcalled by some guy who was walking on the beach."

"Break his nose?" I ask, pouring a little coffee onto Sébastien's face.

"Yep, and called the cops." She replies as Sébastien rocks up.

"Harassment?"

"That and trespassing on restricted property."

"What?" Sébastien asks as Grace hands him a cup of coffee.

"I needed that." He continues. "What kind is this?"

"Borrowed it from Shawn's bag." Grace says.

"Well I borrowed it from Cameron. He got three fucking drums of coffee in Honduras on the way back from Colombia."

"How'd he get to Honduras?"

"He didn't, his father imports the stuff to Canada with a family friend, just paid the friend to divert three barrels to a Canadian air force base, where he had another friend send them to Hereford on that cargo plane last week."

"Oh the same one that brings Tina and I our mail?" Sébastien asks.

"Yep. I don't know how he makes this many friends."

"I don't make friends, I just get people to owe me favours." Cameron says, walking up.

"Really?" Grace asks, handing the coffee pot to Cameron, who downs the entire thing.

"Yep. I did see a commotion down on the beach last night, some guy getting the shit kicked out of him by some girl that was skinny dipping."

"That was me." Grace says, finishing her cup of coffee.

"I saw the entire thing, I loved how it looked like he thought he was winning until you put him in a headlock."

"Let him get his hopes up."

"Nice. Now, I believe we have a plane to Tazmania this afternoon if I'm not mistaken."

"No, that's tomorrow." I say, checking my watch, which shows date along with time.

"Then what we doing?"

"I do need to go file a police report, and seeing as you saw the entire thing, you're coming with me." Grace says.

"Yay, paperwork."

POV: Cameron Robertson

"Here's the keys to one of the rentals." Taina says, causing me to jump.

"We need to attach some bells or something to you." I say, taking the key.

 _Twenty minutes later._

"Sign at the bottom." The Cop on morning desk duty says.

I sign the statement before walking outside and joining Grace in the car.

 **Insert Song: Go For Soda - Kim Mitchell**

"Ah, I hate paperwork, why were you in and out?" I ask.

"I gave the statement last night, just needed to sign the charges. How did you catch me beating the shit out of the guy anyways?" She replies, putting the car in drive.

"I had just woken up and was getting some painkillers from my travel bag for a throbbing headache and I heard the gug whistle through the open padio door in my room, watched the rest through a pair of binoculars."

"How could you even see us?"

"Lights in my room were off, so my eyes were adjusted. It was also a full moon."

"Well this was embarrassing." She says, sounding defeated.

"How so?"

"Well first, I was caught skinny dipping."

"The guy was tresspassing on private property."

"You saw me naked while watching me beat the shit out of the guy."

"That is understandable."

"And, because the guy was trying to run off, so did the cops."

"They've probably seen worse."

That one got me a punch in the sholder.

"That fucking hurt." I say, rubbing my sholder.

"Choose your next words carefully."

"I haven't had breakfast, and I see a McDonald's."

"You chose correctly." She says, turning into the McDonald's.


	14. Homeward Bound (14)

Racing

Alexandria Bay Port of Entry, New York, United States of America

Cameron Robertson

"Busness or Pleasure?" The Border Guard asks, looking at my passport.

"Both I guess." I reply shrugging.

"Uh... Wait here." He says before closing the window and talking into his radio.

He opens the window before speaking again.

"Please pull into secondary, that way." He commands, pointing at a parking area to the right of the interstate.

"Naturally." I mumble, pulling away from the booth and into the parking lot.

"Show us your hands." I hear after I turn off the car. I look around and find several border enforcement agents aiming their weapons at me.

With a sigh I raise my hands, following their commands until I am face down on the asphalt, my hands being cuffed behind my back.

"I'd like that phone call right about now." I inform as I am hauled to my feet and lead towards the building.

Several miles southeast.

Shawn Hagler

I look at my watch for the third time this hour, Cameron had called an hour ago, saying he was getting to the border and would be here soon, but hadn't showed yet.

"He's probably just in traffic." Grace says, walking up from the go-cart track we were letting loose at before we caught a flight out of the military base just down I-81 back to Hereford tonight.

I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, and pull it out to find a number with the same area code as this area.

"Ello?" I ask, answering the call.

"Is this Shawn Hagler?" A stern female voice replies.

"Who does it concern?" I ask, waiving over Sébastien and Meghan, who were chatting over lunch.

"Border Protection Agency."

"What are you trying to arrest Cameron for this time?" I ask, signaling the three others present to follow me.

"Firearm smuggling." She replies.

"I'll be there with someone who can sort this out in five minutes." I reply before hanging up.

"Tell the others we have to go bail Cameron out." I say to Grace as I hop into the drivers seat of an SUV.

"What did he do?"

"Probably used his civilian passport while having his sidearm on him." I say with Sébastien jumping in behind me with Meghan in the passenger seat.

"You guys know people on BPA?" I ask, pulling out of the parking lot."

"I know the head for eastern Canada." Sébastien says from behind me.

"Call them, anyone you know Meghan?"

"I know the head of Homeland Security." She says casually.

"Well, call them then." I reply, pulling onto I-81 northbound.

I hear the two of them beginning to talk as I pay the toll to cross the bridge to the island the border layed on.

"Okay, my guy is sending the head of the Canadian side over to vouch for Cameron with the documents he used to enter Canada." Sébastien informs.

"I'm on hold while my clearance is checked." Meghan adds.

I scan the highway, realising we have to go through Canada to get to the American customs. "Sébastien, whats the name of the head of this crossing?"

"Phillippe." He replies.

I pull into one of the booths and speak before the guard.

"Tell Phillippe that Sébastien is with us and we're headed for the American customs." I command, causing the guard to speak my command into his radio, getting a quick reply.

"He will escort you back, he's over there." The guard replies, pointing at a man crossing the multiple lanes of traffic.

I pull forward and let the man get in the back beside Sébastien.

"Sébastien, I haven't seen you since '03!" The Quebecois man says, embracing Sébastien in a hug.

"Formalities later, we still have to stop Cameron from being arrested, the border guys can only detain him till State Police show up." I say, following the road back into the southbound lanes, headed for US customs.

I pull into the booth closest to the building.

"Afternoon, passport please." The guard asks.

"Hey Jeff, We've got to get inside." Phillippe says, lening into view.

"Hey Phillippe, go to the left." The guard says before speaking into his radio.

I pull into the parking lot, noticing Cameron's car being torn apart by border guards.

"I got through, give me a second." Meghan says, waiving us into the building.

We head inside and are met by a woman who shakes Phillippe's hand. "So what's all this about?"

"You have a friend of ours in that cell over there." Sébastien says, pointing at Cameron seated in a holding cell.

"Ah him, he had two pistols and a fully automatic rifle in his vehicle." She informs, pointing at the weapons layed on a table.

"I presume you also found his Military ID" Phillippe says, handing the woman a file with photos of Cameron entering Canada yesterday morning.

"We did, but that doesn't mean he can take those weapons over international boundaries."

"He has the clearance, we just can't tell you why, totally top secret." I say, holding up my Air Force ID.

"We still can't release hi..." She begins before another guard taps her on the sholder and hands her a phone.

"Hello?"

"Sir?"

"But."

"He wa..."

"Yes sir." She says before hanging up.

"Cut him loose." She says, waiving at a guard to unlock the holding cell.

"Thanks guys." Cameron yells as he's uncuffed.

I hear the door open behind me with Meghan appearing at my left.

"I see my call got through." She says.

"It did. Hey, why was he pulled into secondary anyways?" I ask.

"He had an unresolved denial of entry from 1995." The Guard says as Cameron collects his things and walks up.

"I'm the same as my father, I have been pulled into secondary every time I've ever crossed the border, I haven't not been pulled into secondary since '95." Cameron informs. "Now, I feel like soft serve icecream and gocart racing."

Five minutes later.

"I'M NOT IN JAIL!" Cameron yells to the several operators waiting for us after I park the car.

"Good on that mate. Why did they arrest you for weapons, did you not show them all the documentation?" Logan asks, drinking a beer.

"I did, but apparently, El Prezidente is down at Fort Drum." Cameron replies.

"That explains why our flight was delayed." I think aloud.

"Anyone want to go watch him? I hear it's a real ball." Meghan says.

"I'll pass, I don't like to admit it, but I think he's loony." I say, raising my hands defensively.

"I can't say he's a ray of sunlight." Logan adds, finishing his beer.

"What's your opinion Cameron? You always have an opinion." Meghan says, looking at Cameron.

"I would complain, but us Canadians the symbol of peace, almost burnt Vancouver to the ground over a hockey game." He says.

"Which time?" Sébastien asks.

"Exactly."

"Okay, but if you HAD to have opinion, what would it be?" Meghan pries.

"If I HAD to have an opinion I'd say that El Prezidente is a batshit crazy lunatic, who got into office on the fear of anyone who isn't a straight white person, and a ten year old with a copy of the Constitution can tell that he is vastly unqualified for the position, and don't get me STARTED on the fact that he could have committed treason with Putin." Cameron rants, not even stopping

for air.

"Fair enough. Now who wants to race some gocarts."

"All of us. Now, step aside pesants, the King has arived." Cameron announces, cracking his knuckles.

Five minutes later.

I had wisely elected not to race Cameron through past experience, and now I was seated next to Olivier and Olivia, eating a subway cold cut, watching as Cameron literally begins to pass the guy in last. While he's still in first.

 **Insert Song: The Boys Of Summer - Don Henley**

"Oh that cheeky motherfucker." I laugh lowering the sub as the music begins to grow louder as Cameron passes, drifting around Seamus, who responds with the bird, but Cameron doesn't notice, because he's already passed the person infront of him.

"I'm guessing that he is cheating." Olivia says, eating my chips.

"No, he just. HEY MINE." I begin, swiping the chips from her and handing them to Olivier. "You can have one, anyways, there is a regulator on most electric gocarts that caps their speed, Cameron simply disables the cap."

"Isn't that cheating."

"Both him and I have a philosophy stating 'If it is avaliable to use, why shouldn't you use it?' Makes sense?"

"Yep." Olivia says now drinking my root beer.

"Buy your own!" I command, swiping the drink from her hand and pointing at the subway.

 _Later in the day, Ft Drum, New York_

POV: Cameron Robertson

"Airplane sweet airplane." I mutter as I pull up to the entrance to the base.

"ID." The guard on duty asks as I pull up.

I hand him the IDs of everyone in the car.

"Robertson."

"Me." I say.

"Hagler."

"Present." I hear from behind me.

"Chow."

"Yep." I hear from my right.

"Weiss."

"Ja." I hear from behind me again.

"Yep, you're good, hangar 4, the President is still speaking in there."

"Fuck, that's where our plane is." I hear Shawn say, along with constant impacts to the back of my seat.

"Yeah, he was supposed to stop speaking a few hours ago, but you can't tell the President what to do." The guard says, waiving us through and turning to the next car.

"Well, guess we get to watch El Prezidente till our plane leaves." I grumble.

"He's probably using the plane as a backdrop." Olivia says.

"And I have a feeling that us walking around in civilian clothes would be highly suspicious." Shawn complains.

"Now we have to change into our fatigues, and all I have is a Canadian Officers Uniform because my combat clothing is at Hereford." I groan, pulling into the vehicle pool and exiting the car, hearing mumbled speech coming from a cloaed hangar down the runway.

"Yayyyyy." I cheer sarcastically as I grab my duffel bag from the trunk.

 _Five minutes later._

I scratch my collar, still adjusting to the brand new uniform.

"You look perdy." Shawn says, wearing his relaxed Air Force fatigues.

"Shut it, Olivia and Monica change already?" I ask, blocking out the urge to scratch the iches.

"Yea, they bit the bullet and began the walk to the hangar, hoping in that span Trump finished speaking." Mike says, strolling up in a ceremonial British uniform.

"I see you thought similarly."

"No, we were told to change." He says, rubbing his temple.

"Logan must have flipped." Shawn says, befinning the walk to the hangar.

"It was entertaining, he almost punched a Secret Service member." Mike laughs.

"I would pay to see that." I say, spying Logan along with Grace and Gustave following him.

As we reach the hangar I see Monica peering in through the door.

"What you see?" I ask.

"Trump already left, Pence is talking now." Olivia says.

"Can we get to the plane?"

"Yea, its at the front of the hangar, but everyone would see us."

"Lets just wait at the back." Mike says.

"A Canadian, an American, a Kiwi, a Australian, a German, a Korean, a Brit, and a Frenchman walk into a political rally." I comment.

"That dosen't even work." Grace says, closing the door behind us.

"I know, uh oh, looks like Pence saw that we entered." I reply.

"Who's answering questions?" Mike says.

"Je ne pas parle Anglais." I reply, ripping off the velcro Canadian flags on my sholders and grabbing one of Gustave's French ones.

"Oui." Gustave answers.

"Ja." Monica says.

"Shì de." Olivia adds.

"Ppalpan" Grace laughs.

"Fuck." Shawn says, looking at Logan and Mike.

The rally went smoothly, out only interaction with anyone being with one of the commanders asking qhy we were there, to which Shawn pointed out our plane, which he said he was flying, while flipping out his ID.

After the rally, we boarded the plane and I made my signature military plane ride quarters. Taking some of the webbing on the plane and making a hammock one of the front corners of the cargo bay, on which I peacefuly sleep as we cruse over the Atlantic.


	15. Midnight Sun (15)

_Just realized I haven't uploaded any of my new chapters. Oops. -Author_

 **Midnight Sun**

 _Fairbanks, Alaska_

POV: Logan White

Three days after I came off medical leave we were shipped to Alaska.

"You ever get the feeling like this will probably end horribly?" Cameron asks, racking the slide on his new SKS as we steam towards a cabin deep in the woods outside of town on a dirtbike.

"No, Why?" I ask, looking back to find Cameron swinging a calvary sword.

"No reason." He says as Tina and Zofia come alongside us in another dirtbike.

Tina points up as a small prop plane flies over us.

"That's our queue." I say, pushing the throttle forward and speeding faster towards the small cabin.

The dense forest prohibited us from seeing anything surrounding the cabin, so we're essential going in blind.

I ramp over a downed tree to find myself landing in a small campsite with three White Masks seated around it.

I land the bike on one of them before coming to a stop and shooting another.

"Where's the third?" I ask, looking back to find Cameron holding his calvary sword, which now had blood on the blade.

"Oh there he is." I say, looking back to see a headless body in the dirt. "How sharp is that thing?"

"Quite." Cameron replies before wiping off the blade and sheathing it.

I push the throttle again, stopping the bike behind a small mound of dirt where Zofia is standing, shooting beyond it.

"Here's my stop." Cameron says, jumping off the bike and climbing the dirt, beginning to dump rounds beyond.

I dismount the bike and climb the dirt, setting up my rifle.

POV: Shawn Hagler

 **Insert Song: Take Me Home, County Roads - Johnny Denver**

"County Roaaaads, take me hoooome, to the plaaaaaace I belooooooong!" I sing as I circle the cabin once again, Olivier seated next to me waiting to jump, along with two local SWAT members in the back.

"THIRTY SECONDS BEFORE YOU JUMP!" I yell, climbing the plane to a safe altitude.

"So, what was it again that you guys say they have here?" Olivier asks one of the guys in the back.

"A nuclear warhead." He replies bluntly.

"Alrighty then."

"Alright, Seya later Olivier, you're clear to jump."

"Seya." He says, opening the door and jumping with the two guys in the back.

After he jumps, the dash lights up.

"Nah, fuck this shit." I say, quickly unbuckling myself and jumping out the door, before turning to see a SAM missile slam into the plane.

I then turn my attention downwards, finding myself about to land on the roof of the cabin, with the White Masks not noticing me yet in the confusion.

I hit the roof and take off the parachute before sliding down the roof and readying my knife. I sneak up behind a White Mask, covering his mouth while jabbing my knife through his back about where his heart should be.

After he drops, I pick up his dropped M4, checking the chamber to find it loaded.

I see Olivier and the two SWAT officers clearing a path behind me, while Tina, Zofia and Cameron clear infront of me, with heads randomly dissappearing thanks to Logan.

I grab a few magazines from a crate next to me, shoving them in my belt before beginning to take out the White Masks who are behind cover, only using two magazines to clear my immediate surroundings. After my second reload, I kick the door to the cabin open, blasting two of the White Masks fiddling with a large cylindrical object inside.

I walk up to the device, checking to find that they didn't finish arming it, breathing a sigh of relief before finding something else, a small inscription on the object, in a language I didn't know or recognize.

I shrug it off before returning to try and take out more White Masks.

 _Twenty minutes later._

"We really need to get planes with anti SAM defences." I say, rubbing my forehead while watching Zofia and one of the SWAT officers check over the bomb.

"I'll mention it to the mechanics." Zofia replies, closing the control pannel.

"Also, theres some text on the too of the control pannel, no clue what language it is."

"I see it, looks like Russian and Chinese were mixed with Korean and Arabic, it's completely foreign to me. Also, this isn't nuclear, it has zero radioactive substances in it."

"Then what is it?"

"My bet is it's an experiment that they stole, with the text being a mis-stamp."

"Or it's aliens." Cameron says, walking in.

"Fuck off." I reply, throwing a small peice of wood at him.

"Just saying, it has zero radiation, has illegible writing, how heavy is it?"

Zofia goes to pick it up, easily picking it off the ground.

"Not heavy, and I bet if we X-ray it, it will either be empty or will have something that we've never seen."

"You high?" I ask, rubbing my temple.

"Not yet, but I have a feeling that this thing is going to magically disappear before we can check further."

"CONTACTS NORTHWEST!" Comes Logan's voice from outside, quickly being overtaken by gunfire.

I quickly grab the M4 I got earlier and scramble outside, using the White Masks own defenses against them.

I hear footsteps quickly approaching my cover, so I stick my leg out, tripping an unexpecting adversity. I quickly aim at the fallen woman, not firing as I find a local police officer.

"FUCKS SAKE, IT'S THE LOCAL PD. STOP SHOOTING YOU KNOBHEADS!" I say, waiving my rifle over the cover before standing after the gunfire stopped.

A officer marches up to me, looks like the usuial hardass that you want to put three bullets into, and him opening his mouth only confirmed my hypothesis.

"Who do you think you are, raiding this building without informing us." He says. I swear to god I can see steam coming out of his ears.

"Uh, we did, two SWAT guys are over there." I say, pointing at one of the SWAT officers, who is nw talking to a different cop.

He simply huffs and turns to walk away.

"CAMERON, I SWEAR I BETTER BE ISSUED A WEAPON AFTER ALL THIS SHIT!" I say turning and walking back towards the cabin.


	16. Reports (16)

**Reports**

 _Hereford_ _Base_

POV: Senior Quartermaster, Joseph Ximénez

 **Insert Music: Daft Punk - Get Lucky**

I sigh as I take another sip of my coffee while going over the week's paperwork. Although I was the quartermaster, I had the job of doing all the paperwork too.

"Hey Joseph." Cameron says walking in with a small bag.

"What did you break?" I ask, setting my mug down.

"Nothing this time, Shawn just wants a weapon because he keeps being shot down." He says setting the bag down.

"Anything in particular?" I ask, looking into the bag. "I see you brought the usual coffee and cheese, wait, is that Wilton?" I sidetrack, picking up the cheese.

"Yep, bought it while I was visiting family. Anyways, his only stipulation is that it be compact and lightweight." He says turning to leave.

"Alright, It'll be on the transport next week." I reply, turning to the computer infront of me.

"Allright, compact and lightweight, lets see... MP5K will do fine." I think aloud, typing out a order form.

After submitting the order, I turn to the paperwork infront of me, going through the pile.

 _Airplane shot down._

Five _hundred Liters of Irish whiskey._

 _Two of Tina's welcome mats._

 _A pound of... dynamite._

 _Wrecked SUV._

 _Drunken barfight in Frankfurt._

 _Recruitment forms for two new operators._

 _Three cases of Melatonin and_ _Clonazepam._

 _A birthday cake._

 _Copy paper._

 _Smoke's bombs containing *REDACTED*._

 _A bottle of A1 steak sauce._

 _Benzoylmethylecgonine._

"Wait. Ben-zoyl-methyl... That's cocaine. Who the fuck ordered cocaine?" I ask aloud, flipping through the multi-page form. "Please don't be Dominic, please... Oh, thank god its Gustave." I say, reading through the document.

I reach over to the phone and punch in Gustave's cell number, only for it to go to voicemail. I hang up and switch tactics, thinking of who he spends time with.

I punch in Ryad's number letting it ring.

"¿Hola?" He picks up with.

"Hola Ryad, ¿sabes dónde está Gustave?" I ask.

"Sí, él está en la cámara médica, Shawn y Logan decidieron jugar al pollo en carritos de golf."

"Gracias."

"No hay problema, Jacob." He replies before I hang up, standing and grabbing my light jacket.

I exit my office into the large storage area of the base, walking out a nearby door into the loading docks for lorrys. I jump onto the asphalt and jog through the rain over to the medbay, holding the door open for a MP who heads for administration.

"What brings you in Jacob?" The receptionist asks.

"Know where Gustave is? He forgot to give a reason for a special order." I reply, shaking off my jacket.

"Last room on the left." She says, pointing down a hallway.

"Gracias." I say, walking towards the room.

I enter to find Shawn and Logan as mentioned, both reeking of alcohol, with Barbie band-aids covering Shawn's face.

"Run out of gauze?" I ask, eyeing Shawn.

"No, he requested it." Gustave replies, taking a picture.

"Alright, just need your reasoning for an order." I say, handing him the form.

"Oh yea, this." He says, stopping Logan from eating a cotton ball. "One of the other sergons required it for eye surgery."

"Eye surgery?" I ask, taking back the form as Gustave takes a jar of cotton balls and puts them out of Logan's reach.

"They're worse then infants. Yea, it is used as an anesthetic. Why do you think Coca-Cola was originally a medicine?"

POV: Gustave Kateb

"Didn't know that, thanks for the info, good luck." Joseph says as he leaves.

I return with the bird, before picking up the phone to call the receptionist.

"Just get Cameron if he's awake, if he's not get Dominic and James. And if they aren't avaliable, get the new recruits." I yell as I dive to stop Logan from grabbing the cotton ball jar.

 _Five minutes later_

I am literally sitting on Logan to keep him down when Dominic and Erik, one of the new recruits walk in.

"Gentlemen." I say, with them coming to a dead stop.

"Should I ask Doc?" Dominic says, containing a laugh.

"No, and welcome to rainbow... Erik?" I say, making sure I got his name right.

"Yea... Pleasure to meet you."

"Well, here's your first mission, Take Shawn to Cameron, and I think Olivia can take care of Logan."

"Sure thing." Dominic says, walking over to Shawn and shaking him slightly. " Know where Cameron is?" He asks Shawn, who nods. "Tell him that I sent you."

Shawn proceeds to stand and hobble out, walking down the hall.

"Alright as for Logan. Why are you sitting on him?"

"He wants to eat the cotton balls, probably think it's candy."

"Alright, got any tranquilizers?"

"Nothing that couldn't kill him while he's drunk." I sigh.

"Alright then, get off of him."

I jump off of Logan, handing him over to Dominic.

POV: Dominic Brunsmeier

"Grab the other sholder Erik." I say, patting Logan on the back.

Erik walks over and grabs Logan's other arm, and we proceed to half guide, half drag him to the dorms.

As we approach the main entrance to the building, James walks out, cup of coffee in hand.

"Ah, there it is." I say, bringing Logan inside and sitting him in the first chair we find.

"Feed it to him." I say, causing James to hand Logan the mug, which he promptly drinks.

"Let's hope that somewhat sobers him up." I say, hoisting him up again and towards the small movie theater, where the rest of the operators were watching a Star Wars marathon.

We enter and take Logan up to the front and sit him next to Olivia and Morowa, the other recruit.

"Doc says he's your problem." I say, with James giving Logan a small bowl of lollipops.

"Keep him away from cotton balls." I say as she shrugs and returns to watching the movie and chatting with Morowa.

I walk to the back of the theater and sit next to Cameron, who has fallen asleep with Shawn next to him, humming the Imperial March.

I nudge him slightly, causing him to wake up.

"Oh, did I fall asleep?" He asks before looking back at the screen. "Sweet I missed the rest of the prequels!" He cheers, because we are just getting to the part in 'Revenge of the Sith' where Palpatine takes power.

"This part is good." I complain.

"I will admit, this part is good." He replies, turning back to the movie.

 _Several hours later._

Onscreen, Vader kills Obi-Wan, causing someone in the front row to gasp.

"WERE YOU PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL DURING MOVIES 1 THROUGH 3?" I hear Seamus yell.

"No!" Logan replies.

"Fair enough, you're so drunk you probably can't remember." He continues as everyone else shushes them.

 _Several MORE hours later._

" _Luke I am your father._ " Vader says, causing Logan to gasp louder.

 _SEVERAL MORE HOURS LATER_

"This fully functional battlestation." Palpatine says, with Logan not gasping because Olivia duck taped him to the chair with his mouth covered after the beginning of this movie.

 _SO MUCH LATER THAT I AM GETTING BORED_

Logan gasps so hard he breaks the duck tape over his mouth when Kylo Ren kills Han Solo.

 _So much later the Author had a stroke._

"HE'S NOT REAL?" Logan questions as it is revealed that Luke isn't actually fighting Ren on the salt planes.

 _A couple minutes later_.

"FINALLY!" Cameron cheers as the end credits roll, with Olivia and Morowa dragging a now knocked out Logan away.

"NOW FOR THE OTHER ONES!" Mike yells, with everyone instantly vetoing that idea.


	17. All Work (17)

All Work and no Play

 _Singapore_

POV: Shawn Hagler

"If we get shot down again, I am going to shoot the mechanics." I says as I climb into the pilot seat of the small prop plane I am taking to a hijacked cargo ship.

POV: Olivia Chow

 **Insert Song: He's a Pirate - Hans Zimmer**

"Do you have to play that?" I yell over the music at Cameron, in the drivers seat of the small speedboat we were in, dodging gunfire from the Cargo Ship ahead of us.

"If I die, I die ironically." He says, jerking the boat left to dodge a spray of gunfire.

Next to me, a small radio crackles to life, with panicked yells in what I recognize as Mandarin.

"We're in luck!" I yell.

"How so?" Cameron replies, a bullet going straight through the cheap capitan's hat he bought, which he simply discards.

"I can listen to their panic!"

"Excuse me for a sec." He says, picking the marine radio off his vest and continues into it. " Ghost says that they are..." He says, pausing to look at me for an answer.

"Chinese."

"Chinese, so good thing we brought her."

"She knows Chinese?" Comes Dominic's confused voice.

"Off topic, but yes." Mike interupts with. "Okay, I've reached the boat, let's find those pitates!"

"And comince codenames." Ember says, cutting the engine and pulling up to the stern of the giant vessel, where a ladder is built in to the hull.

I quickly tie the boat to a bar in the ladder before slinging my rifle and beginning to climb.

Behind me I hear Ember's boots hit the ladder, with light gunfire beginning forward on the boat.

I reach the top of the ladder, quickly scanning the deck before climbing up and swinging my rifle around.

Ember appears beside me, quietly racking the slide on his Ithaca.

I hear footsteps to our left, and aim my rifle to find Glaz and Blitz climbing over the railing to join IQ.

Galz quickly walks over to another ladder, climbing it to the top of the main tower of the vessel.

I tap Ember on the sholder so that he follows me over to Blitz, who is opening a door to the tower.

"Where are they, they were lighting us up a minute ago." Ember says as he passes me and clears the entrance to the tower behind Blitz.

"Probably followed the gunfire, figured we would too." I reply as we come to a stairwell.

I follow Blitz down the stairs into the cargo hold while Ember and IQ head up the stars towards the bridge.

POV: Cameron Robertson

"See anything that screams bridge?" I ask, clearing a hallway to my left as IQ looks at the small screen on her wrist.

"Tons of electronics about two stories up, while there is another large grouping down the hall." She replies, raising her rifle and proceeding down the hall.

"This door." She says, reaching a door with a sign on in.

"Know what language that is?" I ask, unable to read it.

"Looks like dutch, if I am correct, this is the server room." She replies.

I waive one of my incendiary devices in my hand, signaling if I should use it?

"Could be hostages." She replies.

"I'll go first then, I do have the shotgun." I say, stepping forward and turning the handle on the door to find a man frantically watching numerous monitors, all with live feeds of other areas of the boat.

I look at IQ, and draw a finger across my throat, asking if I should kill the guy.

She replies by waiving her rifle, asking if he's armed.

I shake my head after looking.

She proceeds to enter the room and sneak up behind the man, putting him in a restraining position while covering his mouth.

I toss her a pair of cuffs before proceeding to clear the rest of the rooms.

POV: Shawn Hagler

As I am nearing the cargo ship, I switch on a thermal camera, scanning the boat.

I look at a small screen, finding a few dozen heat signatures, most laying somewhere, with a few seemingly sitting, with the rest standing and running.

I sweep further back, finding eight signatures. Two in the belly of the ship, and six in the tower with four sitting and the other two slowly climbing the tower, with one more on the very top of the ship.

My observations are interupted by an all too recognized sound. "FUUUUUCK!" I yell, bailing from the plane and pulling my chute, gliding towards the top of the tower, hoping the lone signature is Glaz.

POV: Cameron Robertson

IQ and I were briefly distracted from our clearing of the ship by watching Overlord get blown out of the sky yet again.

"Man he cannot catch a break." IQ says as we approach the final stairwell to the bridge. With frantic yelling coming from above.

I again waive my device, with IQ now nodding.

I grin as I hand her my shotgun and quietly climb the stairs, striking my device and throwing it before grabbing my shotgun as it detonates, sending a wave of hot air.

I storm up the stairs to find all of the pirates still alive, but dazed and disoriented.

I quickly bash one of them in the nose with the butt of my shotgun before turning it at the other two.

"Put your hands up." IQ says sternly, as the other two pirates come out of their daze.

One of them books it for the door, only to find Overlord aiming his MP5 at them, they turn to go out the other side, only to find Glaz.

After a few confused turns, Overlord cuts to the chase and forces them to the ground to cuff them.

The other pirate raises a pistol, firing once at me before being taken down.

I proceed to cuff the final pirate, while wrapping some gauze around their face to stop the blood from their nose going everywhere.

"Uhhh Cameron." IQ says.

"Codenames?" I say, turning to find the others in shock.

"Your chest."

I look down to find blood coming out of a hole around where my stomach should be.

"Man, fuck adrenaline." I say, sitting down and beginning to wrap myself in gauze before blacking out.

 _Several hours later._

I slowly come to, seated in a hospital bed with Grace sitting in the corner, tapping away at her laptop.

"Why is it that when I wake up in the hospital, you are always the one seated there?" I ask. sitting up to find great pain in my chest.

"Cause I got shot too. Also because I'm the only one who isn't dealing with the aftermath." She says, pulling up her sleve to show a new gash in her arm.

"Sounds like I missed something."

"Yea, Shawn's shot down plane kinda crashed into the boat, causing it to sink."

"Thats a fucking lot of paperwork." I comment, holding down a button making the bed sit me up.

"Oh it is, so I'm multitasking, doing my paperwork, watching you after a three hour surgery, and making sure the media doesn't come in here."

"Oh yea, we are celebrity's now." I say recalling an event a few weeks ago where Shawn, Logan and I had somehow drunkenly won the lottery while celebrating Logan's aniversary in Perth.

"How much did you win again?"

"75 million. We aggreed we each get five and donate the rest to charity, I meanx we make a million or so a year off of the job anyways.

"Where did you donate it again?"

"We let Logan decide because it was his ticket, so he gave 10 mill to various charities, an the rest to aboriginal groups helping aboriginals in Australia."

"Wait." I pause. "I was in surgery for how long again?"

"Three hours. That one bullet peirced your left lung and grazed just beside your heart, so they left it in after making sure you didn't drown in your own blood."

"Yay, now I can't go through metal detectors. And that also explains why it hurts so fucking much to breathe."

"Ehh, two months leave and you'll be good as new."

"How long was Sébastien on leave?"

"Four months I think."

"When am I being released?"

"Uhhhh." She begins, typing something into her computer. "Later today you're being flown back to Hereford."

"Did you hack into the hospitals mainframe to find that out?"

"Possibly."

"I am so amazed that you and Shawn haven't taken the world electronically hostage yet."

Suddenly I fell breath on my sholder.

"How long has Tiana been standing next to me?" I ask, not even turning to look.

"Since you got out of surgery." Grace says as I look to my left to find Tiana cutting up an apple.

"One of these days I'm going to have a heart attack."

"According to your record, the worst chronic health problem you have is sinus issues."

"You hacked into my medical records too?"

"You only have one functional kidney?"

"I take that as a yes. Where is Shawn anyways?"

 _Across town._

POV: Thomas O'Dunne, Respectable Busness Man

"You're telling me that because one ship sinks, I have to go to England?" I ask, putting a glass of beer down.

"Thirteen employees are missing!" My boss replies, rubbing her temple.

"You're lucky I'm Irish, because otherwise I would have been blackout drunk by now."

Next to me, a man approaches the bar, sitting and ordering nothing.

"Can I help you?" I ask, noticing that the man is looking at me.

"Yes I can Mr. O'Dunne. Can I have a chat with you outside?" He asks, an accent that sounds like Dixie mixed with French Canadian resounding.

"Sure." I say, looking at the man, who isn't taller then 5' 9".

I follow the man through the rear of the bar, exiting into an alley.

I pull out a pack of cigarettes and light one up, taking a drag before offering one to the man.

"Don't smoke." He says, pulling out a folder.

"What's this?" I ask, as rain starts falling from the sky.

"Evidence." He says, handing me the folder.

I open it, finding multiple documents about the ship that was hijacked and sunk earlier.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, these were found on the leader of the hijacker, he even said that you gave them to him personally, I mean, I did have a gun to his head afterall." He says, leaning against the door.

"Mate, I have no idea what you're talking about." I ask, looking frantically for exit paths.

"Do you thought." He says, pulling out a flip phone and hitting speed dial, with my phone ringing in my pocket.

By the time the papers in my hand hit the ground, I was around the corner.

"Why do the calmer ones always run?" I hear from behind me as I emerge on the street, sprinting for my car.

I reach my car, realising my keys are in the bar, so I simply keep running.

"Heading east." I hear behind me, turning another corner and slipping on the slick sidewalk.

I scramble to my feet, ducking in an alleyway and hiding behind a dumpster.

I hear the man's feet stop outside the alley, so I crawl behind the dumpser, staying quiet and still.

"You know, three people that I know are in hospital due to your little plan." I hear him say, along with the racking of a pistol.

"They will live, but it would be unfortunate If I had to bring back the mastermind dead." He says, kicking the dumpster aside.

I quickly throw a handful of dirt and gravel at his face, distracting him from me sprinting past him and down the street.

"Alright, now I'm angry." I hear him say, before I hear multiple gunshots, with a bullet hitting the ground infront of me.

I turn down another street, coming face down on the ground after tripping on nothing.

I turn back to find nobody, not even the man chasing me.

I come to my feet, noticing that there are no cars or other people anywhere to be seen.

"Alright, It seems I have fallen into a trap." I say, pulling out a small pill bottle.

"Too bad you won't take me ali..." I began before the bottle is snapped out of my hand, and is now floting in the air.

"Suprised?" Asks a woman, appearing infront of me.

"Oh bugger me sideways." I say, feeling the cold metal of a pistol on the back of my head.

"Yep." The woman says before a bag is placed over my head.

 _Sometime later_

"This is the mastermimd?" I hear someone say.

From my senses, I can tell that I'm on a plane with numerous other people.

"Yep, it's lucky I remembered the list of heads of the White Masks around the world." I hear the man from before say.

"So he's the head for Singapore?"

"Yep, I'm suprised he didn't recognize me."

The bag is roughly yanked off my head, and I find myself in a cargo plane, with a dozen or so people looking at me.

"So, you going to kill me now?" I ask, looking each one of them in the eyes.

"Now why would we do that?" Asks a white man seated next to a vitals monitor.

"Yea, he didn't get shot for nothing." Says an oriental woman sitting next to him.

"Yea, we plan on letting Cav have her way with you."

"I'm not afraid of anyone named 'Cav' especially a cop." I say defiantly.

"Oh, but you should." He says as the bag is placed back over my head.

 _Hereford Base_

POV: Cameron Robertson

 **Insert Song: 38 Years Old - The Tragically Hip**

"Has he said anything yet?" I ask, taking a new wrist mounted vitals monitor from Monica.

"No, but Taina hasn't gone to the less then Geneva convention approved methods." She replies. unpluging the massive monitor next to me, and plugging in the new one.

"Oh hey Doc." I say, Gustave walking in with a clipboard.

"You're good to leave, now be useful and take this over to interrogation." He replies, passing me a container of adrenaline. "And Monica, you follow him, I want one person watching him at all times."

"All times?" She asks, a small grin on her face.

"Get that stupid look off your face, no way in hell I'm having anyone follow me into the bathroom."

"I'm just kidding, who do you think I am?."

"Yeaaa... Anyways, I'm going to go now." I say, standing and moonwalking out the door.

I put as much distance between me and Monica as possible, ducking down a service corridor to the rear of the medical wing.

After a breif walk through the gloomy night I bang on a locked door on the rear of the administrative building.

It unlocks with a click, and I swing it closed, slamming it behind me.

"Jesus H. Christ man! It doesn't need to be slammed." Shawn says, rubbing his ears.

"Where's Cav?"

"Third room on the right, if you need me, Grace and I are end of the hall, we're still digging through the electronic goldmine that is this guy's laptop."

"Good luck with that." I say, ducking into the room pointed to me.

"Hey Cav, Doc told me to bring you this." I say, observeing her calmly taking to O'Dunne.

"Oh hey, you look alright considering you were shot."

"Ehh, medical leave for a couple months." I say, still slightly wincing when I breathe sharply.

"He has given me nothing." She simply says, placing the adrenaline on a desk.

"Let me talk to him for a few minutes."

"Go ahead."

"Alone."

"Alright, I'll be down the hall." She says standing out of her chair and closing the door behind her when she leaves.

I sit in the chair and look into O'Dunne's eyes silently. I can see the discontent building.

"Arn't you going to ask me anything?" He questions.

"Oh I am, I was just waiting for your nerve to get the better of you. Now, do you think you are being treated well?" I say, picking a cup of coffee off of the table next to me.

"Oh, so you're the good cop?"

"No, I'm the mentally ill special forces operator who got shot earlier today." I say before standing and bringing the mug down on his head, letting the coffee burn.

"THERE ARE CONVENTIONS THAT BAN TORTURE!"

"Yea, here's the Geneva Convention." I say pulling a peice of paper from my pocket.

I then pull a lighter out of my other pocket and light the small booklet, tossing it aside.

"Oops." I say, now picking up a small peice of metal off the floor and holding it above the flame.

"You wouldn't."

I respond by driving the metal bar into his exposed arm, causing him to scream.

"YOU WOULD, YOU WOULD!"

"Tell me what you know and I may grant you the sweet release of death." I say, picking a large wrench off of the table.

"I don't know nothing!"

"I knew you would know something." I say, swinging the wrench, breaking his left kneecap.

"Alright, I planed the heist, but all I was told to do was get the pirates on the boat!"

"I feel like that's not the entire truth. Why that ship?"

"I don't kno..." He begins before I raise the wrench again. "I KNOW! There was expensive stuff in the hold, don't know what, but I'm talking multi million dollar crates, the kind that would be on 24/7 guard by the military if the government knew."

"Now we're getting somewhere." I say, punching him in the face.

"That's for getting me shot." I say turning to leave.

I open the door, turning down the hall as I wipe some blood off of my knuckles, realising it's my own.

"All yours Cav." I say, walking past Tiana, drinking tea while reading a book.

"Thanks. What happened to your knuckles?" She inquires.

"They accidentally broke O'Dunne's nose and nocked out several teeth."

"Hey! That's my job!"

"Sorry, but I did learn that there was some really expensive shit in the cargo hold."

"Mh, not useful considering its on the bottom of the ocean, most likely destroyed."

"Alright, I'm going to go check on the computer nerds."

"That's not nice."

"I'm one too." I say, ducking into the lab at the end of the hall.

"Woah." I say, finding Shawn pinned against the wall, knives keeping his clothes stuck, while Grace is spinning in a rolling office chair, throwing knives every now and then.

"MHMHMHHHM!" I hear from Shawn, noticing that there is a gag in his mouth and he is duck taped to the wall.

"I should stop this, but I want to see how it ends."

"MHHHHHHH!"

"Oh shush, so what's going on Grace?"

"We finished digging through the computer, found tons of juicy evidence and stuff, so we decided to do this."

"And now he's complaining?"

"MHHHH!"

"No, I just didn't mention thatI would be spinning myself around before throwing."

"Alrighty then, I'm going to go watch The Mask."

"That was a good movie."

"MHHHHHHH!" Shawn tries, a knife hitting the wooden wall next to his head.

"Have fun."

"MHHH, I'M, MHMHNM, GONNA...:" Shawn tries to say, getting the gag somewhat out of his mouth.

I skip out on the rest, leaving the room and heading outside.

"Ey Mate, your looking good considering everything." Logan says, leaning on a post.

"Still hurts to breathe." I say as he offers me a cigarette."

"Don't smoke."

"How did I not know that yet?" He asks, lighting one for himself.

"Dunno, anyways, how's the rifle problem coming?"

"Ehh, I've narrowed it down to one of two things." He says, pulling out his phone and showing my a picture of his disassembled rifle. "Either it's the gas return, or my bullets are wearing the rifling on the barrel." He says, pointing at various parts.

"And that's why I like my old guns, made 'em to last, my Hi-Power alone has had hundreds of thousands of bullets through it, only damage is s slight crack on the slide due to it being dropped once."

"They why don't you get a new one from Sébastien or Tina?"

"Because they have Ingles Hi-Powers, mine's a FN Hi-Power. What I would take from Sébastien is his L1A1, man I'd kill to get a FAL."

"Yea, so you don't smoke? I swear I've seen pictures of you smoking."

"If you've seen me smoking, it wasn't tobacco."

"Really?" He asks, sending me a sly look.

"I traveled to Australia in the 90s man, I'm lucky I ain't a cokehead like the Americans."

"Jesus, I'm just glad we're not old enough to have been part of the war on drugs."

"It isn't a war if you can't win it. What's throwing people in jail for amounts of weed so small that you can't smoke it going to do anyways?"

"Piss them off."

"Yea, but hey! In October it's legal in Canada, ao I got that to look forward to for retirement."

"That's fair." He says, opening the door into the canteen.

"Oh that smells good." I say, recognizing the sweet smell of caramelized onions."

"Cooking ham and onions, want some?" Craig asks, carefully watching the stove.

"Oh most definitely."

"I'll pass, as much as I want to, I have a physical tomorrow." Logan replies, grabbing two beers from the fridge.

"EYY, CAMERON! Heard you got shot!" Miles says, entering rhe room with Monica. "Your last words would have been great though, probably would have got em on your monument."

I reply with a middle finger, taking a beer from Logan, who sits down and turns on the TV.

"Football, football, American football, American politics, eurovision repeats, more football, cartoons, more cartoons, ohh SpongeBob." Logan says, flipping through channels.

"You're watching a child's show?" Monica laughs.

"Hey!" Craig says, pausing his cooking. "SpongeBob SquarePants is a national treasure!"

"I second that." I comment, taking a sip of my beer.

"It's idiotic."

"Did I say it wasn't idiotic?"

"He did not say it wasn't idiotic."


	18. Reading (18)

**Reading**

 _Hereford Base_

POV: Logan White

 **Insert Song: Tokyo Rose - Idle Eyes**

I sigh, rubbing my forehead as I walk away from the desk where I've been trying to make my rifle not degrade from my specialty rounds.

"You know, it has been found that stress can shorten your lifespan my several years." Cameron comments, pausing from reading the book in his hands.

"Yea, yea, it's just that Joseph still hasn't been able to obtain the barrel that I requested, so now I'm stuck trying to create an alloy that resists the special propellant I use." I reply, walking over to a kitchenette to make some tea.

"Making tea?" Cameron asks, noticing what I'm doing.

"Want some?"

"Got any citrus flavored?"

"Uhhhhh, yea there's a pack here." I say, quickly skimming through a small cabinet.

"Doesn't matter how many times I've read this book, I always laugh imaging this one part." He says, a grin on his face as he rubs his chest.

"What book is it?"

"And No Birds Sang."

"Ah, Mowat. I've actually read it, is it the part where he's on that bike with the other guy driving through an Italian camp?"

"Yep, I just imagine them legging it, screaming at the top of their lungs."

"Oh god, now I'm imaging it!" I say, beginning to laugh.

"And the best part is it's true because they have army records of the aftermath."

"Stop, let me regain control before you continue." I reply, trying to control my laughter.

I take a few seconds to breathe before speaking again.

"Man, didn't he die recently?"

"2014 I think." Cameron replies, taking a swig of his flask.

"What's in the flask?"

"Relax, it's just orange juice."

"Oh really?" I say, snatching the flask from his hand and smelling the contents.

"Okay, I'll give it to you, that is orange juice." I consede, returning the flask.

He returns to reading the book as I finish making the tea.

"Ere you go." I say, handing him his tea before taking a seat next to him on the couch.

"So what alloy you trying to make?" He replies, taking a sip.

"Brass currently."

"That isn't that hard, it's melting point is kinda low though."

"My propellant doesn't create much heat, it just corrodes the steel."

"How much pressure can it create?"

"Err, I think the highest metal it can't withstand is aluminum."

"Alright, brass should be fine then, what about bronze?"

"I didn't think of bronze, kinda soft though."

"Yea... Uhhh, you could always carbon plate it."

"With what? Carbon fiber?"

"Yea, it's heat resistant and is stronger then steel, not to mention lighter."

"Hmm, I'll put in an order for one of those barrels, I'll be suprised if nobody will make them."

"That solves that issue, but for right now I think you'll be fine with brass, just have patience, I have a degree in chemical engineering and even I wouldn't try to create alloys in this condition."

"Hey fellas, what are you guys doing?" Timur interupts, coming down the stairs.

"Recovering from a gunshot wound." Cameron replies, sipping his tea.

"Trying to make my barrel corrosion resistant." I say, nodding at my rifle as I sip my tea.

"What's the cause?"

"My propellant, special mix I use, almost identical to regular gunpowder, but for some reason corrodes the rifling on my barrel."

"Tried carbon fibre?"

"Cameron just brought that up, I'm going to talk to Joseph when I finish my tea."

"I'll let you two have fun, I'm going to go use the open beta of Battlefield V." Cameron comments, standing and placing his empty mug in the kitchenette's sink.

POV: Cameron Robertson

I slide my book into my jacket pocket, which I had been wearing due to the cold that I had contracted.

I climb the stairs out of the basement armoury, coming into the rec room, where Monica and Gustave are playing a game of chess.

I begin to walk over to one of the TV's where I had set up my Playstation because Gustave insisted that the only time I be left alone is when I'm sleeping.

As I pass the two of them, I move one of Monica's peices, checking Gustave.

"Hey!" He protests.

"I didn't see that move." Monica says, giving me a thumbs up as I settle into a reclining chair, shaking the controller to get it to connect.

"Nothing in the rules against that, after all, I accidentally moved the peice." I defend, suppressing the urge to cough with a swig of cough meds and gagging at the fowl taste.

"Holy shit, you got the beta?" Shawn says, entering the room, his face blackened by soot and his hair singed.

"You get shot down again?" I ask.

"No, plane caught fire when I touched down, gas leak from a bullet probably."

"I'd go take a shower before that stuff gets in your pores, I remember what happened after I didn't wash sunscreen off."

"Man, that breakout was amazing, didn't you do patterns at one point."

"Nah, James made that up, I was too busy dealing with sunburn and acne."

"Where are the showers again?"

"You've been here like five months."

"Yea well, I usually just use the showers in the medical building because they always have hot water."

"Go down to the armoury, door to your immediate left."

"That's the woman's." Gustave comments.

"I thought they were unisex." I say, not remembering any other showers in the basement.

"No, Cameron's right, remember when Craig set off firecrackers in the Men's?" Monica interupts.

"Still haven't fixed the damage?" Gustave asks.

"They did, just figured it was cheaper to convert it into storage. How do you not know this?"

"I do the same as Shawn, there is more hot water in the medical building."

Shawn walks off towards the stairwell and I notice that the back of his shirt has multiple burn holes.

I turn my attention back to the TV as I load into my game.

I'm just about to press play when I hear a scream from the basement.

I sigh as I stand along with Gustave and Monica and head back towards the basement.

"He didn't let it warm up did he?" Monica asks as we find Logan and Timur watching us from the other side of the room

"He did say he used the medical showers, those things will get to temperature in seconds." I say, entering the shower room to find Shawn frozen in place blocking our view.

"You okay Sha- OH SWEET JESUS!" I begin, finally seeing past him to find what he's looking at.

In the corner of the room is the night janitor, surrounded in a pool of their own blood and broken glass.

Gustave quickly passes me as I shake Shawn, who finally comes to his senses.

"Whew, I know I've seen worse, I just didn't expect it."

"They've been dead for a few hours, looks like they slipped and fell onto the glass table that was here." He observes, taking a peice of glass from the janitor's neck.

"Man, that is a horrible way to go." I say, finding makeshift bandages that the janitor probably used to try and stop the bleeding.

"Yea, on the scale of ways to die, bleeding out from an accident like this is around freshwater drowning." Shawn comments.

"How is that different from drowning in saltwater?" Logan asks, entering the room.

"Trust me, saltwater drowning is probably in the top five worst ways to die.

"What's your preferred way to die? Old age?"

"Nope, complete obliteration from an explosion, instant death with minimal pain."

"How is that better then old age?"

"I don't want to fall asleep not knowing if I'll wake up again." Shawn says, turning to presumably go use the medical showers.

"Jeez, I'm going to go back upstairs." I inform as I step back from the body and turn to leave.

"All you leave, I need to deal with this." Gustave sighs, ushering Monica and Logan out after me.

I climb the stairs, going for the fridge to grab a beer before remembering that I'm both sick and pumped up on asprin and Advil.

I rub my forehead as I take an orange out of the fridge and begin peeling it with the switchblade that I always keep in my shoe.

"Gah, I'm going to go for a walk, I need to get that image out of my head." Logan says, walking towards the door.

"Can you get me some mints from the warehouse? There's a giant crate near Joseph's office." I ask before eating a slice of orange.

"Sure, how many?"

"As many as you can carry." I groan, rubbing the bridge of my nose to try and clear my sinuses.

I sit back down, eating another slice of orange, seeing Monica sit on the couch to my left.

"Got anything to distract me from that?" She asks, watching me go through the menus in the game.

"Here, don't touch the bookmark." I say, taking my book and tossing it to her.

"Why is it in French?"

"All they had when I bought it, I was in Montréal afterall."

"Mh, Mowat, I haven't ready any of his books."

"Similar to other soldiers turned authors, only notable Canadian I believe."

POV: Gustave Kateb

 **Insert Song: Bad Medicine - Bon Jovi**

I sit in my office chair, sighing as I wounder why I agreed to be the head doctor for the base as well as an operator.

I open a drawer in my desk, turning the music from my radio up and pulling a pen and temple letter from the drawer.

I begin to write the letter, including the standard condolences.

I finish the letter an a few minutes, it's only the third I've had to write, the first being my own for when I 'kick the bucket' as Craig puts it, Cameron had written four. One for his parents, one for his brothers widow, one to the military office in Ottawa to arrange the standard funeral process, and one adressed somewhere in Toronto, I didn't inquire because it wasn't any of my business, but I had on one occasion I almost read it out of the curiosity.

"Heya Doc." I hear infront of me, finding the base coroner.

"Is it the obvious Stewart?" I ask.

"As usual. Don't know why I'm needed when the only dead that ever come in are the occasional accident that you can always tell the cause of death."

"Stop beating yourself down, you are the only one I'd trust to operate on me other then myself."

"I have never operated on a live human."

"How many dead?"

"Several hundred over the years."

"Exactly, you know where everything is and how to get at it. Back to the issue at hand... Complete accident?"

"Other then some preventable issues, a compete accident. On thr floor there was along with the blood and glass, dried soap."

"And a few hours earlier, when they slipped..."

"Probably just slippery residue from someone who just took a shower andhad to leave in a hurry."

"Any good news?"

"They suffered severe trama to the back of their head, most likely out cold long before they bled out"

"Atleast there's that. Thanks Stewart, try and go outside a bit more, you look sickly."

"Sure thing, but you need to buy me some running shoes." He chuckles as he leaves.

I return to my previous task, looking for an envelope.

After some not so comfortable twists, I pick up a manila envelope off of the table behind me, sliding the letter inside and sealing it with an ink stamp.

I stand, going to give the letter to the receptionist to fill out the mailing credentials, leaving it in the unprocessed pile before heading outside and rubbing the back of my neck to ease my headache.

"Stressed?" Shawn asks, walking up behind me, still wet from his shower.

"How long were you in there?"

"What time is it?"

I glance at my watch before replying. "7:26."

"Three and a half hours then." He answers, beginning the short walk to the dorm building.

I slowly follow him, taking a cigarette pack from my pocket and clutching a cig between my teeth while I dig for my lighter.

"Here you go." I hear to my left, finding Cameron with his arm extended, a zippo lighter in hand, Monica next to him.

"Merci, what are you doing out this late?" I ask, handing the lighter back, noticing engravings on the bottom.

"Coming back from the range." He says, highlighting his new Mosin-Nagant slinged on his shoulder.

"How did I miss that?" I question after a long drag of my cigarette.

"Your mind must be overworked." He says matter-of-factly.

"Too much paperwork." I consede, noticing my headache is somewhat diminishing.

"Image how Ximénez feels." Monica comments before heading into the building.

"Want my advice?" Cameron asks, leaning against the wall next to the door.

"I would appreciate it." I say.

"Apply for leave, go somewhere quiet and calm, maybe see a psychiatrist because constant stress from a somewhat minor against everything else you've seen is probably not good. And when the guy with professionally diagnosed depression and anxiety says you're stressed, you should probably heed my advice."

"You are right, and I will heed your advice if you answer one question honestly."

"Ask."

"How are you so calm and collected when the inside of your brain must look like the battle of Stalingrad."

"You seen my blood tests?"

"Yep."

"Then that THC content speaks for itself."

"I'm suprised you're allowed." I say, visualizing Cameron's sheet, a big EXEMPT stamp over the THC reading.

"It's prescribed."

"I'm guessing a lot of legal looping to get it here."

"Not as hard as you think. The hardest part is keeping it from everyone."

"And how have you?"

He responds by taking something out of his pocket and tossing it to me.

"Chewing gum?" I ask, reading the label on the packet he tossed.

"Cannabis chewing gum. If I'm so stressed that the Melatonin doesn't help, I just pop two in my mouth and make my way to my dorm to lie down or think."

"How long does it take to take effect?"

"I crush the outer shell and it releases vapours that if I inhale, I'm high within five minutes, if I just chew it could be thirty minutes."

"I must admit, I have seen you chewing gum all the time and never thought twice about it."

"Exactly." He says, taking the gum pack.

I drop my cigarette, crushing it under my heel as we near the dorm building, entering to find Alexander and Mike in a ping pong game, everyone wlse watching them.


	19. Flying (19)

**Flight Troubles**

 _Somewhere over the North Atlantic_

POV: Cameron Robertson

 _THUMP_

"Did Cameron fall out of his hammock?" Grace says, looking towards me.

"Nope, I'm still here." I say, sitting up and closing the book I was reading.

"What was that the-aaaaaAAAAAAHHHHH" She began before the plane begins a nosedive, throwing everyone in the plane forwards.

Mike and Grace barely miss crushing me as they hit the wall at the front of the cargo bay, while Logan, leaning against the other side of the wall, isn't so lucky, with Monica hitting him square in the chest.

"SHAWN GET UP TO THE DAMN COCKPIT, WE ONLY HAVE A FEW SECONDS BEFORE WE HIT THE OCEAN GOING MACH 3!" I yell, Shawn hanging from a beam a few feet above Logan, who Monica is now tending to a probable broken rib.

Shawn drops from the beam, landing a few feet from the door at the front of the bay, before opening it and jumping in.

"SAY YOUR PRAYERS LADIES AND GERMS, IT WAS NICE KNOWING YOU!" I yell, waiting for the plane to rip itself apart from the forces.

After another two seconds of silent prayer, the plane slowly recovers from its nosedive, leveling off.

I quickly assess the situation, the plane seems to be fine, Sébastien is death gripping the webbing around him, Monica is seated next to Logan, who is letting loose a string of profanities, Olivia is similar to Sébastien, but is a few feet off the ground with her foor caught in the webbing, and Gustave is walking over to the medkit to tend to Logan.

I drag myself to my feet, not trusting the plane before walking over to the door and walking through the plane.

I reach the cockpit and find a strange sight. There is a large hole in the windshield on the Pilot's side, the pilot is either out cold or dead, a dead Canadian Goose is on the floor of the cockpit, and Shawn is in the Copilots seat while the Copilot is checking the pilot's pulse.

"He's dead. How is that thing this far out?" The copilot says, giving up on finding a pulse.

"I dunno, and a ten pound bird will do that to you." I say, moving aside for the copilot to find somewhere to sit down.

"You pull it up?" I ask Shawn.

"No, copilot did it when he figured out what was going on, can you find out where the nearest airport is?" He replies.

I step out of the cockpit, walking over to a small gps built into the wall. After a few taps I have our coordinates.

"You can either do a 180 and heahead back to Iceland, or turn left and head for the Faroe Islands."

"Don't want to try any large turns. Now get on the radio will you?"

I walk forward and take the headset from Shawn, before clicking it on.

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is American Air Force cargo plane 39278, we have suffered a birdstrike and our pilot is dead while the Copilot is unfit to fly, we are requesting immediate assistance and viable options for quick landing anywhere other then Iceland.

"AAF 39278 this is Icelandic control, your message is understood, you can either turn north and we can clear all traffic to the Faroe Islands, or you can continue on your present course and land in either Scrappa Flow or another runway in Scotland."

"What would be quicker?"

"The Faroe Islands can be cleared immediately and you can be there in... 24 minutes. Are you currently piloting?"

"Negative, I'll hand you over to the active pilot." I say, handing the headset back to Shawnand leaving the cockpit.

I walk back to the cargo bay to assess the situation.

"Birdstrike, pilot's dead." I announce as I enter the bay.

"Shit. What are we doing."

"Shawn relieved the copilot and we're redirecting to the Faroe Islands."

"Can he fly this?" Logan asks, wheezy.

"This was his job before all of this." I say, walking over to my duffel bag still hanging from my hammock and retrieving a flask.

"Melatonin?" Mike asks.

"Nope." I say, taking a swig and letting the liquid burn my throat. "Taquila."

 _Several Hours Later, Hereford Base_

I walk off the second plane of the day, stepping onto the tarmac of the base landing strip and grumbling at the current downpour of rain.

I simply put it aside and trudge through the rain, making my way to the dorm building, raking my hand through my short hair when I enter the building, shaking the water from it.

"YOUR RESIDENT PYROMANIAC IS BACK!" I yell, Shawn hitting me over the back of the head as he walks by.

"Hello everyone, big mail came in while you were gone." Alexander says, walking by with a cup of orange juice.

I follow him to the lounge, where in the corner there is a folding table set up, covered in various boxes and packages.

"Anything for me?" I ask, setting my duffel bag by the stairs.

"Yes actually, two in that corner over there." He says pointing at a longer package leaning against the wall with a smaller one seated on top of it.

"Ohh, if it's what I think it is." I cheer, picking up the two packages and setting them on a coffee table.

I sit on a couch and flip out a pocket knife, cleanly cutting the packing tape on the box before flipping it open.

"Finally, I've been expecting this for two months." I say picking up the rifle in the box.

"Mh, SKS, good rifle." Alexander says, sittting next to me.

I hand him the rifle for him to inspect while I open the second box.

Inside the second box is the basics, extra parts, some gun oil, and about three hundred or so stripper clips.

"Where did you get this? It is original 1949 build." He says, pointing at the serial number.

"Same place I got my Hi-Power, Prague." I reply, putting my knife back in my pocket.

"Explain." He says, again turning the rifle in his hands.

"My Hi-Power is a 1936 make, and see those stamps?" I say, unholstering the pistol and showing him the left side.

"The German eagle and Czech Security Forces?" He says, seeing the stamps.

"Captured along with the FN factory in 1940, then somehow got into the hands of Czech secret police under the Soviets. Bought it off a retired cop in 2003 on a vacation before I joined the military."

"And the rifle?" He says, placing it in the box.

"Made in 1949, I don't know much more, but I bought it a month ago off a collector. Cost me 700 US."

"You have a good taste in guns."

"You could say that, but there is the darker side. The pistol has probably killed hundreds of people over the years, rifle probably too." I say, holstering the pistol. "And the whole reason I had it sent here is because I'm sending the Madsen home to be put in a museum, It's still mine, but I want others to see it. It was also way too impractical."

"Dude, your MG weighed more then three plate armour vests." Tina says, walking over to check out my new rifle.

I hand it over, standing to go get a drink.

"Is this bayonet real?" She asks, swinging it into position.

"Yep, It's metal, just needs to be sharpened." I say over my sholder while digging through the alcohol fridge.

"And you intend to use it?" Alexander inquires.

"Well, yea." I say, spinning around a bottle of beer in my hand. "What?" I ask to their horrified faces. "I can't bayonet people, but Taina can do things that probably break the Geneva convention?"

"He's got a point." Taina says from directly behind me.

After a girly scream and a potential heart attack I speak. "STOP FUCKING DOING THAT!" I yell before replacing my beer with vodka.

"Force of habit." She says, taking the beer bottle I had put back and walking off.

"I am so glad my family doesn't have a history of heart disease." I say walking back to the couch. "After I put my stuff in my dorm I'm going to take this baby over to the training range and test it out." I inform, slinging the rifle over my back and walking towards the stairs, retrieving my bag on the way.

 _20 minutes later_

 **Insert Song: Centuries - Fall Out Boy**

I load my rifle, tossing the rmpty clip aside and getting a chill as I let go of the slide, hearing a signature click as the bolt slides forward.

I give a thumbs up to Mike, in the observation bay, where he hits the starting timer.

I spin around the first corner, finding two wooden targets, putting a bullet through the upper body of both before ducking into a room to my left, letting three shots at two targets in the corner of the room before kicking open another door and emptemptying the magazine into several targets.

After I reload, I click a training bayonet into position, spinning a corner and coming fave to face with another wooden target, before emptying a round into it and removing the bayonet, taking out two more targets to my right, I flip the bayonet back to restore my former accuracy.

After another minute or so of cleaning rooms, I reachthe other side of the mock building, hitting a button to stop the timer.

"Two minutes, thirty seven seconds. Twenty three rounds expended to take out twenty five targets, with three bayonet kills." Mike informs, with a grin that even I can see from here.

I proceed outside, towards the shooting range to sight the rifle because I noticed it was off.

I walk into the small building adjacent to the range to find Timur and Logan seated, watching a recruit attempt to hit the 1k target, something only they hand achieved.

"What's he using?" I ask over my sholder, eyeing the recruit's rifle.

"Newer rifle chambered in 30-30." Logan says.

"He won't hit that with that." I mumble.

"That's the point." Logan says getting up and whispering in my ear, wincing as he stands.

"Gustave did check you right?" I ask, loading only five bullets into my rifle.

"Yea, I have a few brused ribs, but nothing that rest and painkillers can't fix. I'm just lucky it was Monica and not Alexander." He says as I strap a 10x scope onto the rifle.

"You would have probably died if it was Alexander!" Timur says, taking a sip of what I presume is vodka.

I walk over to the 500 meter range while the recruit takes a break, firing two shots, hiting below the bullseye.

"Ho... WHAT?" Logan blubbers, looking through a pair of binoculars.

"I've been practicing, and I see that the rifle is sighted."

"But it's a pea shooter!" He says.

"Logan." Timur says between laughs. "That rifle is chambered in 7.62 by 39. He is able to hit the target, doesn't have much power at that range, but he can hit it.

"Yea, this thing has about 440 meters of effective range. Now. If I had a Mosin-Nagant! Which I do, and it's on the way. I could hit that 1000 meter." I say before hitting the magazine release on the bottom of the rifle, releasing two rounds before I cock the slide, releasing the final bullet.

"You got a Mosin?" Timur asks.

"Yea, bought it along with this one, I'm probably not going to use it on missions, bit man is it a great gun."

"Pretty sure it's the second most made rifle after the AK-47." Logan says, the recruit returning to try and hit the target.

"Hey guys, sorry about earlier Logan." Monica says, walking in and giving Logan an apology hug.

From the look on Logan's face, he is immense pain, but he continues the hug, waiting for Monica to release him.

"It isn't your fault, although I may have to borrow some of your melatonin Cameron, don't think I'm going to be able to sleep if the painkillers wear off."

"I'll stop by with a couple bottles, I have a full box of the shit." I mention, walking out of the range with Monica.

"I can only imagine what he's going through." Monica sighs.

"I got a pretty good idea." I say, beginning to cringe at the memory.

"How so?"

"I'll show you, but if you tell anybody, I'll blow your damn head off."

"Really?"

"No, I won't do that, just don't mention it to Shawn, he just only recently stopped teasing me."

I lead her through the dorms, up to My room before entering and sitting at my computer.

"Let's see if it's still there." I wonder aloud, loading youtube and going to my subscription tab.

"Man, I am going to feel this video." I say, hitting a channel and playing a video from 2007.

I lean aside and fullscreen the video, showing me, a few years younger, before I joined the special forces.

"Do a backflip!" A voice offscreen yells before I jump off of a rocky cliff, doing one and a half spins, slamming into the water flat on my back.

I pause the video and turn to Monica, half hystaria, half pity laughter coming out of her mouth.

"I said I could relate!" I say after she calms down enough to hear.

"Oh god, how much did that hurt?" She laughs.

"I dislocated both my shoulders and a knee, broke a few ribs and almost paralyzed myself. It was after this that I decided to join JTF2." I say, closing the web browser and following Monica out of my room and down to the rec room.


End file.
